Agapanthus
by CLee36
Summary: A Sequel to Born the Day You Kissed Me. After losing Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger is determined to have him back…so determined that she will go as far as inventing a spell that reverses the affects of the “Obliviate” curse. In this anticipated sequel, H
1. The Pleasures of the Sunlight

A Sequel To Born the Day You Kissed Me

**The Pleasures of Sunlight**

"Is that it?"

Hermione was standing in front of her bedroom window, letting the sun shine freely across her face. Her hands were clutching at the window sill as she rested her forehead against the warm glass.

"Hermione?"

She inhaled deeply as she turned around at the sound of Roger's voice, "Yes, I believe so."

"I'm ready when you are."

"Thanks, I'd like a few more minutes."

"Okay," Roger said as he left her to her own company.

Hermione Granger's bottom lip trembled slightly as she willed tears not to spill from her eyes. She slowly walked out of her bedroom and into the hallway, and it was unnerving. It was cold and dim. The furniture was gone. The walls were bare, and it smelled like cleaning detergent and fresh paint. This wasn't her house…her house was warm and inviting with laughter and the smell of pastries drifting from the kitchen throughout every room.

At least…that was what it once was. Her parents had died—no, her parents had been murdered…in this very house. That was why she had spent the past week working with Roger and his employees to empty the house, clean it, and put it on the market for buyers.

Seeing as the property was extensive, bids were skyrocketing beyond her wildest dreams. Hermione was so thankful that Roger had stepped up to help her; she would have had no idea where to begin. She now had a handsome amount of money at her disposal to invest in an apartment of her own, or college if she wished. Seeing as her world was on edge, she thought it a wise decision to hold off on any major decisions where money was concerned.

Hermione spun in a slow circle around her living room, imagining herself as a young girl. She had never known a home besides this one…and Hogwarts of course. She had already cried too many tears at the thought of losing both homes within a few weeks. Not to mention, losing the love of her life. Draco Malfoy...

His name always froze her mind. No matter what she was doing, if his name appeared in her head, all thought process was halted so that her brain could conjure up a picture of his face.

"Ready?" Roger broke her reverie as he stepped through the front door.

"Yes, I'm ready," she replied as she gave one last spin in the room, and then followed him out of the door. She watched Roger lock her house for the last time, and solemnly followed him to his car.

Roger and his fiancée had graciously offered their home to Hermione for the summer, and since she didn't want to buy her own place…and because she didn't want to go live with the Weasley's as Harry was, she had accepted. She had nothing against the Weasley's…she just needed her space at the moment.

After Draco's father stole his memory…or after "The Incident" as everyone was now calling it, Harry, Ron, and Ginny hadn't left her side. She was grateful, but she knew that she needed to sort out her own emotions and settle the legal issues of the Muggle world surrounding her parents' death.

Half an hour passed and Hermione's eyes were closed as she leaned her head against the warm car window. She reveled in the feel of the sun falling across her face, and the gentle vibrations from the road she was traveling on. Roger was humming quietly to the radio.

Her mind was quite content in this moment…it wasn't racing with questions, or mourning at one of her many losses…it was simply enjoying the simple pleasure of sunlight.

"We're here Hermione," Roger said as his hands turned the steering wheel to gently guide them through gargantuan brass gates.

She looked down the circular drive and let her head fall backwards as her eyes scanned to the top of the mansion. "Oh my God," she said in awe.

"Tell me about it. I'm still trying to get used to how vast this place is. My fiancée inherited it from her great aunt…it was built in the 18th century. She is extremely proud of it."

Hermione's mouth was gaping opened as they drove closer and she stared up at the lavish Victorian style house.

When he finally pulled to a stop, Hermione slowly opened the door as she heard Roger pop the trunk of his car.

"I'm glad you've decided to stay with us Hermione," Roger said as he swung his keys on his finger a few times before shoving them into his pocket, "even if it is only for the summer."

"I'm just thankful that you are still willing to have me," she smiled as she stepped out onto the gravel.

"It's our pleasure," Roger said. "I'll go get Derek to help with your things."

Hermione's head snapped towards him as for a moment her brain automatically thought he had said Draco. "D-Derek?"

"My soon-to-be step-son, he's a little older than you are. He just finished his first year at uni," Roger said over his shoulder as he trotted up an enormous staircase and swung opened grand redwood double doors.

A step-son? He'd never mentioned that his bride-to-be had a son.

She heard Roger calling him…and her face fell as the boys name caused her mind to unconsciously wander to Draco...

She looked back up as she heard footsteps—two pairs now—coming her way. However, the sight of Derek caused her mouth to fall opened.

He was about as tall as Harry, at least from a distance he was. His hair was dark brown and she couldn't help but compare it to Draco's…it was the same texture as Draco's. Smooth and flowing, unlike Harry's hair that was course and haphazard. And his eyes…they were like Ron's—

"Hello, Hermione is it?" Derek said when he reached her.

Hermione was staring at him openly, her head cocked barely to the side.

"Uhhh," Derek laughed a bit, "I'm Derek," he said as he held his hand out for her to grasp.

"Oh," she said as she shook it firmly. "Yes, pleasure to meet you."

"I've heard a lot about you. I'm sorry to hear about you parents."

Hermione dropped her head at his remark, her eyes glancing to the ground.

"I'm sorry, have I upset you?"

Hermione lifted her eyes to his, "No, no it's alright,"

"Well, I did meet your dad once, but you'll have to tell me all about your mum," Derek said as he began to lift her suitcases out of the trunk.

She peered at him through the corner of her eye and couldn't help but notice his nicely toned arm muscles as they worked to lift her things. He gave her a quick smile as he passed her and began up the steps after Roger.

Hermione threw her bag onto her back as she began to climb the stairs, her attention being drawn to the remarkable detail in the landscaping of this mansion.

"Oh, Hello!" a woman called as she appeared suddenly at the top of the stairs Hermione was currently climbing. She had bright blonde hair, ridiculously tall heels, an alarmingly tight pink shirt, a long flowing green skirt and a pink and green polka-dotted scarf wrapped around her neck.

"Oh my God," Hermione muttered to herself as the woman put her hands on her hips and waited for her to reach the top. _"You've got to be kidding me,"_ Hermione thought to herself as she reached the woman.

"I've heard so much about you! I just know we are going to get along so well this summer! It'll be like I have my very own daughter!"

Hermione smiled shyly as the woman looked her up and down. "Thank you for having me on such short notice, madam."

"Thank you dear, but call me Chloe, I insist!" she said loudly as she motioned for Hermione to proceed through the double doors.

"Good gracious," Hermione gasped upon entering. There were two curving staircases that led to an enormous foyer on a second level. She felt as if she had just stepped into an old 18th century film. "This is—"

"Brilliant, isn't it?" Derek said, coming up to stand beside her. "We've just moved in, I haven't gotten used to its enormity yet, but I'll do my best to give you a tour."

"Yes, I'd like that very much."

"Now Derek, lets not overwhelm our guest. Why don't we show her to her room?" Roger said as he shut the double doors which created a low echo throughout the entrance.

Hermione nodded as she, Derek, and Roger picked her things up once more and began to climb the stairs.

"Your room is just to the right up here," Roger explained. "Derek's room is downstairs, and Chloe and I are on the third floor."

"You have a third floor?"

"Yes, but it is only one room."

"They like their privacy," Derek joked from beside her.

Hermione laughed a bit and admired the statues that were displayed at the top of the stairs.

When they reached her room, it was much simpler than the rest of the house. It was decorated in blue and white, and had a simple bed, a desk, and a wardrobe. There wasn't even a chair behind the desk, and it looked as if no one had ever stepped foot in there.

"This room is not quite finished. We would put you in another room but the paint is still drying and we wouldn't want you getting ill from the fumes."

"This is perfectly fine, thank you so much," she said again. They set all of her things down and then left her to get settled.

"I'll be downstairs whenever you're ready for that tour," Derek said to her before he closed the door.

"She seems nice," Derek said to his father as they headed down the stairs.

"She is a very well mannered young lady," Roger agreed.

"Very pretty too."

"Now Derek—"

"Relax Roger," Derek laughed. "Honestly, one innocent comment and you think I'm out to woo the poor girl. I can tell she has been through hell, I don't need to add anymore complications to her life."

"Good," Roger said curtly.

Hermione sat down on the bed and stared around her. She felt rather trapped in this room…it had no appeal like the rest of the house did. She had a feeling she wouldn't be spending too much time in here. The only thing that she liked was that it had a floor to ceiling window with long white curtains hanging from each side.

She began to unpack her things, and filled up her closet rather quickly along with her desk which now had a tower of books next to it. She spent the next half hour sitting on the ground by the window, gazing out over their property…it was breathtaking.

Suddenly, she heard music…a piano if her ears didn't deceive her. Intrigued, she stood to investigate. She opened her door and found the sound twice as loud in the hallway…it was coming from downstairs. She walked quietly down the staircase, and tried to follow the sound. There was no sign of Roger, Derek, or Chloe, and being a new guest, she couldn't help but feel like a trespasser in the empty halls.

"Hello?" she called quietly, but the music just grew louder. She walked under the staircases to find a long hall, at the end of which, was a ray of light from a door that was ajar. She made her way down the hall and when she peered in, she saw Derek sitting on a stool playing the piano enthusiastically. She even recognized what he was playing…it was a classic Mozart piece, and he was playing it from memory.

"Quite impressive, isn't he?"

Hermione jumped when she heard Chloe's voice from beside her.

"Yes, he is," Hermione said as she took a step away from the woman who was no less than a foot from her face.

"Derek, you have an audience," Chloe said in a sing-song voice before she walked away.

Derek turned around and caught Hermione's eye through the door. No longer unnoticed, Hermione stepped into the room. It was as magnificent as the rest of the house, and she was perplexed to find that there was not one, not two, but three pianos.

"I'm a teacher," Derek explained as he saw her glancing between the instruments. "Two are pianos, and that one is a harpsichord," he said, pointing to an antique looking piano.

He stood and walked closer to her, "My students come here, and it is easier to have two pianos sometimes. I cannot stand the sound of the harpsichord, but my mother insists on storing it in the music room." Derek stopped beside her and smiled.

"You play very well."

"Thank you, I've been playing since I was five."

Hermione smiled politely.

"Ready for your tour?"

"Yes I am," Hermione said as she allowed him to take her arm and lead her out of the room.

"So, Hermione," Derek said, "do you like it here so far?"

"That's an unnecessary question, how could I not like it?"

"Some people become overwhelmed when they first live in such grandeur places."

"No, for the past seven years I've been living in a castle—"

"A castle?"

Hermione looked up at him. "Umm," she stuttered, "I mean," she laughed nervously. She had been here less than an hour and had already made a slip about the wizarding world. Wonderful. "My private school was very big…it was practically a castle."

"Oh yes, the famous private school. What was it called again?"

"Hogwarts."

Derek smiled, "Never heard of it."

"Where do you go to school?" she asked him, trying to move the subject away from her.

"I go to The University of Aberdeen in Scotland."

"Oh, so you're just here for the summer?"

"Yes, I live there during the school year," he said. "Now, this is the main entrance, as you're probably well aware of, and down that hall are the kitchen and the dining hall."

For the next half hour, Derek gave Hermione a brief tour of the house. They even had a small library, which excited Hermione for it was the perfect place to relax and read.

"Now, I've saved the best for last," Derek said as he opened a large sliding door.

Hermione gasped as she followed him out into a huge green house. She felt like she'd just stepped into a jungle, for plants hung from the ceiling and there were flowers as far as the eye could see.

"My mother is in the decorating business; flowers are her specialty," Derek said as they walked down a small dirt path.

"Yes, I can see that," Hermione said with a smile on her face. The green house ended so that they were now out in the back yard, and now huge willow trees created a ceiling above their heads.

Derek went and sat down on one of the protruding roots and motioned for Hermione to sit next to him. "Peaceful out here, wouldn't you agree?"

"Absolutely," Hermione sighed as she sat down next to him. She wanted to run into her room, grab a good book, and read under this tree for the rest of the day.

Derek picked up a small twig and began to draw in the dirt. Then he began to sign his name over and over again.

Hermione watched him, and suddenly began to laugh.

"What's so funny?"

"Your last name is Flowee?"

"Yea, why is that funny?"

"Because that would make your mother's name Chloe Flowee," Hermione said with a laugh.

Derek laughed, "Yes, for a while it did I guess."

"For a while?"

"My parents divorced when I was very young, she goes by her maiden name, Chloe Sinclair. I kept my fathers name," he explained.

"Oh I see."

Derek smiled, "Supper is probably ready by now," he said as he stood up and offered her a hand.

"Thank you so much for showing me around, I have so many things I want to do tomorrow," she said as they walked back into the green house.

"I'm glad to hear that. I'll be teaching for most of the day tomorrow."

"Oh yes, on the piano."

They lapsed into silence as they walked back through the sliding doors.

"Well, I will see you at dinner Hermione," Derek said before he departed.

"Okay, bye," Hermione said as she watched him walk away. He seemed so nice, as did Chloe. Hermione was very happy that she had decided to accept Roger's invitation. This entire mansion was the perfect place for her to relax and take some alone time. And now she already had a friend here. As far as she could tell, this summer was going to be all right.


	2. Rose Petals

**Rose Petals**

Dinner that evening was very pleasant. The food was exquisite, but Hermione had a hunch that they were splurging for her benefit.

"Tell us of your plans for the future," Chloe asked after the first course was served.

"Well, I'm not entirely certain as of now."

"College?"

"Yes, probably."

"You should look at Aberdeen in Scotland, Derek loves it there!"

Derek smiled at Chloe, "No need to recruit, Mother."

"I don't mean to recruit, it truly is a marvelous school and I'm sure she could benefit from there as you do."

"Just ignore her," Derek said quietly from Hermione's side. "She's always trying to promote Aberdeen."

"Should she not?" Hermione asked.

"Of course, it's a fine school. It's just bothersome when she does it for every college-bound acquaintance."

Hermione smiled as she saw Roger laugh at Derek's comment.

"I take it you have no cousins?" Chloe asked Hermione.

"No, it was just my parents and I."

"No grandparents?"

"They died when I was young."

"How sad. Derek is fortunate to have much of his family around."

"Oh really?"

"Yes, a loving grandfather, and my brother, Matthew, has two daughters."

Derek nodded, for his mouth was full.

"In fact," Roger said, "Hermione has met Matthew before."

"She has—"

"I have—" Hermione asked at the same time as Chloe.

"Matthew Sinclair, he is the director of the funeral home you used for your parents," Roger said to Hermione.

"Oh he arranged the service?" Chloe said with surprise.

"I already told you that, sweetie."

"I never met him; I only talked to Father Morris," Hermione said.

"Yes well, fortunately, you were spared the trouble of arranging the burial. It was easy for me considering he is soon to be my brother-in-law."

Hermione gave him a brief smile before silence hung for a moment over the dinner table as they enjoyed the grilled salmon.

"So, when is the wedding?" Hermione asked.

"Oh!" Chloe said excitedly as she set down her fork, "it is this coming October! You'll have to come!"

"That sounds wonderful," Hermione said as she saw Roger and Chloe exchange looks of love.

Hermione felt happy for them, yet at the same time, an immense amount of sorrow weighed her down when she saw their exchange. Not long ago, she had had someone to share looks of love with. Her head fell down and she bit her tongue hard to keep herself from crying.

"Hey are you alright?" Derek whispered. He put a hand on her leg.

Her head shot to him at his touch, and she shifted so that his hand fell away. "I'm fine," she said as she searched his eyes tentatively.

"Okay," he said with indifference as he turned back to his plate.

The rest of dinner passed uneventfully, and Hermione was relived to retreat to her bedroom.

As was ritual every night, she retrieved her wand and unlocked a small chest in her closet. She reached inside, and withdrew her Pensieve. Thoughts of Draco were no longer enough, and she needed to see her memories to ensure herself that their love hadn't been some extensive dream.

Her favorite memory was after her abduction, when he first declared his love for her. Those months they spent together were cherished, and her heart hurt to think about what he was going through now that he was (literally) oblivious to a whole year of his past...

* * *

Draco opened his eyes.

He was lying in a bed. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he realized that he was in his bed at the manor.

"Ohhh," he groaned as he rolled over onto his side. Every muscle in his body was sore, and he breathed in slowly only to let a rush of air escape his lungs.

"What the hell happened to me?" he mumbled as he sat up very slowly. His head was spinning maddeningly and he found it difficult to swallow.

Draco swung his legs about to place his feet on the ground and was astounded not to feel the cold floor on his bare feet. He looked down and was immensely surprised to find that he was wearing shoes.

"That's odd," he said as he stretched his neck. He made to stand up but felt a great twinge on his insides as he moved. "Shit," he breathed out. He knew that feeling—he had most definitely been hit with the Cruciatus Curse sometime in the past.

He scrunched up his brow in concentration as he tried to remember…he couldn't even remember lying down in his bed.

He began to wipe the sleep from his eyes as he searched his mind...nothing.

Wait, he remembered Lucius. He had asked him to come to his office…he had given him a portkey...

Ten minutes passed before Draco gave up trying to recall how he'd gotten into bed. _And with shoes on,_ he thought as he made to stand again.

This time he did so with care; he froze still as twinges came, and little by little, he made it to a standing position.

His eyes then fell upon his scattered room. His Hogwarts trunk and various items were all over his floor in a peculiar manner. Okay...that was strange.

He slowly walked around the items to his loo to relieve himself but halted when he caught his reflection in his bathroom mirror.

He was wearing all black.

"What in the world," he muttered to himself as his hands began to unbutton his favorite black dress shirt.

As he used the toilet, he contemplated why he would ever go to sleep in his best black dress clothes…and shoes.

_Must have hit the firewhiskey hard last night,_ he presumed. It would also explain the fogginess in his head.

He zipped up his trousers and pushed his hands into his pockets to smooth them down when he felt something…something soft.

Draco withdrew his hands to find several rose petals. Now his entire face was contorted with confusion. What in the bloody hell were rose petals doing in his pockets? He hastily discarded them onto his sink as he went to wash his hands, but the more he thought about his black clothes, the shoes, and the rose petals, the more his head began to throb.

Suddenly he heard a loud knock at the door. Well, it was more like pounding.

Whoever it was, they didn't have the patience for waiting to be let in, and they slammed the door open in a fury.

Draco stepped out of his loo and saw his father striding towards him.

"Come, we must go," Lucius said.

"Where?" Draco asked as Lucius pulled him forward by the arm.

Lucius looked over his shoulder and stared straight into his eyes, then turned around as if he hadn't heard his son's question.

"Father, where must we go?" Draco repeated firmly.

"We must not keep the Dark Lord waiting," Lucius said slowly as he led Draco through his bedroom door.

* * *

The next day found Hermione outside under a willow tree with her nose buried in a book. It was a book about Apparition, for she was to go take her test in three week's time along with Harry and Ron.

Speaking of which, she had just sent them a letter the night before telling them about the mansion and about her plans for the summer…which consisted of relaxing and reading. Chloe had mentioned shopping on the town, so perhaps an outing every once in a while as well.

Hermione had awoken to the sound of the piano, and liked the idea of waking up to the music every morning. She had crept down and listened to Derek from the doorway again, not sure why she didn't want him to know how much she admired his playing skills.

Two little girls with ribbons in their hair had entered the mansion more than an hour ago, and the sound of their…undeveloped skills had driven Hermione outside to find peace. One day they may be apt to playing the piano, but the little girls most definitely weren't prodigies as Derek was.

When the trees no longer shaded her from the afternoon sun, Hermione returned inside to (thankfully) find the little girls gone, and the sound of Derek's playing filling the halls once more.

Hermione held her book with both hands as she wandered the halls, and headed to the library that Derek had shown her yesterday.

She quietly opened the door in case it was already occupied, but was pleased to find it dark and deserted. She set her book down, then went to the windows and pulled on the drapes to allow sunlight to fill the room. She began to browse through their collection, and spent the next few hours making a "to-read" pile on a nearby table.

"Hermione?"

Hermione spun around at the sound of Derek's voice. "Yes?"

"You've been in here for hours," he commented as he walked into the library.

She was reticent for a moment—"I like to read," she finished, motioning to the stack of books in front of her.

"So I see," he said as he closed the door behind him.

Hermione blinked. A little red flag flew up in her mind. What was he closing the door for?

"Apparition," he said aloud as he picked up her book that she had discarded upon entering the room.

Hermione raced over to him and snatched it out of his hands. "Uhh—"

He gave her a funny look. "What's Apparition?" he asked, and crossed his arms as he waited for an answer.

"This book was my father's," she lied, looking to the ground. Perhaps he would think she was protecting it...

"Oh," he sighed. "I understand, sorry."

Hermione turned around, her heart pounding. She set her book down next to the rest that she'd picked out and spun around when she heard his footsteps nearing her.

"Did you need something?"

"No. I was just wandering how you could spend so much time in here."

"I already told you; I like to read."

"Indeed," he gave her an odd look, and then smiled warmly. "Would you care to join me in the garden?"

"Erm, I guess so. Just let me take these to my room," Hermione said as she picked up a hefty stack.

"Here, allow me—"

"I've got it," she said obdurately.

He raised his hands in forfeit. "If you say so."

"Thanks," she said curtly as he opened the door for her to pass.

Hermione woke up the one Monday with tears streaming down her face. She had been having the most wonderful dream about her and Draco, and when Derek's piano playing awoke her, her heart had been crushed to know that the dream hadn't been real.

She spent hours lying in her bed, crying into her pillow.

She missed her parents.

She missed Draco.

This wasn't how it as supposed to be…this was all so unfair! And it was all Voldemort's fault.

Voldemort…the name brought more tears to her eyes as it was a threat to every friend she had in the wizarding world.

She had only been here for a few days, but she missed Harry, Ron, and Ginny. She missed magic…she missed Hogwarts. It still hadn't sunk in that she wouldn't be returning to school in a few months' time. She was now a grown up…but didn't feel like one at all.

Hermione rolled over onto her back and stared at the ceiling. Her vision was blurred from all of her tears, and she was acutely aware of the path they took down the sides of her cheeks and down onto her neck.

"Miss Hermione?" she heard from the door.

Hermione wiped her face with her hands as she swung her legs over the bed to stand. She threw a robe over her shoulders as she treaded to the door.

"Yes?" she said as she opened it. It was one of the maids.

"Miss Sinclair wishes for you to join her for breakfast."

"Okay, I'll be down in a minute."

"Miss, are you alright? Looks like you've been crying."

"I think I have a cold," Hermione said quickly as she wiped her eyes.

"Well then, I'll get you a cup of tea instead of juice, Miss," the lady said.

"Thank you," Hermione said as she shut the door.

Hermione got her wand and performed a spell so that her hair fell into waves. She put on some jeans, and zipped up a jumper, then put her wand in her pocket and made for the kitchen.

"There you are," Chloe said as she entered.

"Where's Roger?"

"He went to town."

"Oh," Hermione said as she took a seat beside the woman.

The two exchanged pleasant conversation as they ate, and Hermione thanked the maid as she brought her a steaming cup of tea.

Chloe left the table when she received a call, which left Hermione staring out the window into the garden.

_Tap tap tap tap._

It was Hedwig! Hermione jumped up and ran outside to get the note she carried before Chloe or the maids saw her, and she gave the owl a piece of toast from the breakfast table before she flew away.

Hermione opened the letter, and read:

**Dear Hermione,**

**We are all doing fine. We are glad to hear that you like it with Roger so far. Ron and I are excited about our Apparition lessons as well!**

**Molly says that we can meet in Diagon Alley on Saturday if you can have Roger drop you off in London. We will be arriving by noon, and we will wait for you in The Leaky Cauldron. **

**Write back if this doesn't work for you, otherwise, we'll see you on Saturday.**

**Harry, Ginny, & Ron**

Hermione smiled as she read over the note, and went back into the house to find Chloe to tell her of her plans.

"That should be fine," Chloe said when Hermione asked her.

Hermione spent the rest of her day re-reading her book about apparition. She wanted to pass the test quickly so that she could spend the rest of the day with Harry, Ron, and Ginny. Hopefully, Harry and Ron would pass without interference so that she could savor a day back in the world of magic.


	3. The Dark Mark

**The Dark Mark**

"Where are we going?" Draco asked, noticeably out of breath as his father tugged him through the halls of Malfoy Manor.

Lucius didn't even acknowledge that he'd spoke, and continued to pull relentlessly at his arm.

Draco grimaced the whole way for he still wasn't feeling well enough to walk, but he couldn't stop when his father had his sleeve in a firm grasp and was forcing him to match his long strides.

Draco quickly realized that they were headed for Lucius' study. Lucius practically kicked the door open, and Draco was pushed inside. He looked up to find a circle of men standing around with their jaws set firmly. Not one of them looked at all thrilled with his arrival.

He tried to be polite and nod 'hello' to them, but they all turned their heads away, treating him like fresh hippogriff dung.

Lucius stalked across the room to urgently talk to one of the men, and Draco glanced around with a tentative look before he sat down in a nearby chair.

Lucius chose that moment to spin around and yell at Draco to get off his arse.

Draco stood, and sucked in a terse breath as his insides gave a particularly nasty throb. "What's going on, father?" he managed to ask. 

"We must go; the Dark Lord is waiting for you."

"For me?" he spat, "But—"

He was cut off as Lucius strode over to him and clutched his arm. The men around him began to disappear and within moments, Draco felt himself being apparated away along with them.

Draco landed on his face on a polished marble floor, and if Lucius hadn't seized his arm to help him stand, he would never have made it onto his own two legs. He was beginning to feel bruises from Lucius' stiff hand around his arm and he rubbed it tentatively, and then gazed around to find himself in a larger circle of Death Eaters.

"Greetings," a cold voice said.

The voice caused the tiny hairs on his arms and neck to rise simultaneously. A dark figure emerged in front of Draco and he felt like someone just doused his body with ice water.

It was Voldemort. Draco's eyes were twice the size as normal, and the pain in his body diminished completely as his nerves took over.

"Draco," Voldemort whispered as he walked up to him. Draco felt Lucius push him forward so that he bowed as Voldemort approached him. "How good of you to be here," he said. "Finally the day has come for you to join us."

When Draco did not answer he hissed, "Are you not happy to be here?"

"I'm relieved to finally be in your presence, My Lord." Draco heard the words pouring from his mouth and wondered where they came from...

"That is very good to hear. I admit that I was discouraged when you were unable to complete the task—"

"My Lord," Lucius interrupted.

Voldemort did not move his head—his beady eyes shot to Lucius immediately with disapproval and indignance.

Draco's head was spinning, _"What the hell am I doing here? I'm not supposed to get the Dark Mark until the end of my seventh year, why did Lucius bring me early? What the hell is going on?"_

After minutes of Voldemort staring at his father, it became obvious that he was performing Legilimency on Lucius.

"I understand, Lucius," he said, and with a giant sweep of his arm, Lucius' body went flying backwards and was only stopped when he slammed into a wall. "You would do well to remember not to interrupt me again." 

Lucius was red in the face, but nodded all the same. He looked to Draco who had a very baffled look on his face.

Draco's heart was racing. What the hell was that all about?

Voldemort turned back to Draco with a wry smirk on his face. "On to more important matters," Voldemort said as he began to circle Draco. The men gathered around to create a ring around Draco and their Dark Lord.

Low humming chants began to emit from the Death Eaters, and before Draco realized what was happening, Voldemort had taken his left arm and ripped his sleeve apart. He then uttered a spell that sent wild burning sensations throughout his entire body.

Draco began to scream louder than he could ever remember as he smelled his own burning flesh wafting under his nose. He squeezed his eyes shut to try and block the pain. It seemed to be working for the next feeling that coursed through him was a weightless-floating feeling...

When Draco opened his eyes again, he was reclining on his leather couch in his room at Malfoy Manor. He shot upwards with suprise. Paranoid, he spun around to see if anyone was in his room with him, but the sudden rash movement caused him to lose his balance and fall to the ground.

"What the hell," he whispered as he dry-swallowed. "Did I just imagine that?"

A ghost chill ran up his spine as he registered that his left arm was tingling oddly. He looked down at his black dress shirt that was still hanging opened with trepidation. He then saw, to his dismay, that his left sleeve was ripped.

"No," his voice cracked as he stared down at the torn sleeve. He clenched his jaw as he slowly pushed the sleeve up to his elbow, and then let his eyes fall over the flesh of his forearm.

He had most certainly not imagined anything for there, harshly contrasting with his pale white skin, was a black skull and a serpent tongue.

The Dark Mark.

Draco stared at it with indifference. He must have sat there for hours, for his legs began to prickle with sleepiness from his complete lack of movement.

Bloody, buggering hell. This was not good.

* * *

Saturday approached quickly to Hermione's delight, and she dressed in jeans and a sleeveless summer shirt before she clamored down the stairs for breakfast.

"Good morning Hermione," Derek promptly greeted her.

"Morning," she replied as she took the chair he offered her. "Where is everyone?' she asked as she noticed that the usually crowded kitchen was empty.

"The maids have the weekend off, and Roger and my mother left to do business in the city."

Hermione's jaw literally dropped, "But they were supposed to take me with them—"

"Don't worry, mum told me that you needed a lift to London. I'll take you."

"Oh," Hermione said as she looked down at her plate. Well, a ride was a ride. "Thanks," she said as she gave him a brief smile.

"Say, how long do you suppose you'll be staying?"

"In London?"

He nodded.

"Oh, I don't know, probably the whole afternoon unless that's a problem."

"No problem, I might stop by and pick up a few friends to spend the day with me since you'll need a ride back too," he said as his eyes bore into her back. "Who is it that you're meeting?"

"Some friends from school."

He finally took a seat to Hermione's relief, but continued to stare at her.

"Do they have names?" Derek asked.

"Harry, Ron, and Ginny," she replied as she piled fruit on her plate, ignoring his gaze.

They sat in silence for the remainder of breakfast, until he rose and declared that they would depart in twenty minutes.

To his word, twenty minutes passed and the two of them headed outside where his car was parked.

"I called my friend's so they are definitely coming. You don't mind a quick detour, do you?"

"Not at all."

"Good," he said as he put on sunglasses and adjusted his rear-view mirror. "Let's go!"

Hermione buckled up and placed her knapsack in her lap as Derek sped down the gravel drive. She couldn't help but grasp onto the side of the door as he took a sharp left turn out of the driveway. _"Slow down!"_ she wanted to scream as he hit the gas.

Once they got onto the main road, Hermione released her death grip as he seemed to be more careful when other cars were around.

"So, how long have you known these friends of yours?"

"We've known each other for seven years."

"Seven years," Derek repeated as he looked over to Hermione, "So am I right in assuming that those seven years were from school?"

She nodded, "Well, I went to school with Ginny for six years, she's a year younger than me, Harry, and Ron," Hermione said. Her eyes were glued to the road, and she was trying to encourage him to do the same since he kept glancing at her.

"Did you ever date Harry or Ron?"

Hermione's head shot to him, her mouth dropping opened. "No," she said quickly.

"Did you ever have any boyfriends?"

Hermione eyes drifted back to the road, not sure if she wanted to answer him.

"Did you?"

Hermione looked over at him, "I—"

"Forget I asked," he said as he looked back at the road.

"Yes, I did have a boyfriend."

Derek glanced at her, "What was his name?"

Hermione paused, "Draco."

"Draco," Derek repeated. "Interesting name," he nodded.

"We were actually pretty serious," Hermione said, as a small part of her was longing to talk about him.

"Serious? Serious as in 'I Love You' serious—or serious…in a physical sense?"

Hermione wasn't sure how to answer his question so she pretended not to hear it. "We dated for five months."

"Dated…so you aren't dating anymore," he concluded.

Hermione's eyes lowered, "No, he—he got hurt. We aren't together anymore."

Her reply led to a lengthy lapse of silence as they drove on. Derek turned on the radio as she looked out the window at the passing scenery.

Hermione fell into a trance as she watched the white lines on the road go by one at a time. She sat up straighter when Derek broke the silence.

"My friend's house is just a few minutes down this road," he said as he turned the car off the highway. "It'll just take a moment."

When they pulled into a driveway, Hermione saw four strapping boys appear from a petite looking house. Derek turned the car off and went to guy-hug/high-five them.

Hermione opened the door and stepped out as Derek promptly introduced his friends to Hermione and vice-versa.

When they made to get into the car, Hermione spoke. "Derek, how exactly are we all going to fit?"

The tallest boy declared the front seat with Derek, which left Hermione and the three other boys to sit in the cramped backseat.

Unfortunately, they didn't fit at all. She couldn't even get the door to close behind her and she sighed in frustration, "Can I just sit in the front seat with you?" she asked the boy next to Derek.

Gosh, magic would solve so many problems right now.

"Sure, but you'll have to sit on my lap," he said.

She knew it was either sit on his lap, the laps of the frisky ones in the back seat, or the trunk. Thankfully, the tall one seemed to be the nicest of the bunch, so she quickly agreed to move up front.

"This is ridiculous," she muttered as she settled on the strangers lap.

"I know, Derek needs to buy himself a bigger car," the boy said.

"I thought you said a few friends," Hermione hissed at Derek. She was irritated that she was now sitting on some random boys thighs.

"Four is a few."

Hermione rolled her eyes as Derek started the engine. Once again, he pulled out of the driveway so fast that Hermione reached out to steady herself. Only this time instead of grasping the door, she accidentally grasped the boy's thigh.

"Sorry," she muttered as her cheeks turned scarlet. God this was embarrassing.

Luckily, they were only about ten minutes from the city streets of London.

"Where to?" Derek asked Hermione when they turned onto the main road.

"I'm meeting them in a bookshop on Charing Cross Road," Hermione replied.

"Alright," Derek said. As they neared the bookshop, Hermione felt a smile tug on her lips as she gazed upon The Leaky Cauldron. It was amusing to know that all these muggle boys saw was a bookshop and a record store.

Derek parked the car and the tall boy opened the door as Hermione jumped out. She grabbed her knapsack and turned back to Derek.

"Thanks for the ride, where shall I meet you?"

Derek glanced around, "There," he said, pointing to a pub across the street. "At five?"

"Five it is," she nodded, "Thanks for the ride, and nice meeting you all," she said to the boys.

Hermione watched as Derek zoomed away and when the car was out of site, she made for the doorway of The Leaky Cauldron.

"Hermione!" she heard several voices shout at once when she opened the door.

She was greeted with warm smiles and hugs. "It's so good to see you all," she said as she looked between them. Molly was in the background and approached to give Hermione a quick pat on the back.

"Hurry! You're going to be late!" she said as she shooed them towards the Diagon Alley entrance.

* * *

Three hours passed when Hermione, Harry, and Ron were legally allowed to apparate.

Ginny bombarded them with questions as they walked to Florean Fortescue's Ice-Cream Parlor.

"Oh Ginny, it was brilliant!" Hermione said as she relayed the past three hours for the younger witch.

Harry and Ron took the liberty of apparating to the parlor ahead of Hermione, Ginny, and Molly and were already eating their ice cream when the girls arrived.

"So, tell me more about Roger's fiancée and son."

"Chloe, his fiancée, is a very interesting lady…" Hermione smiled as she imitated her posture. Ginny giggled as Hermione then mimicked her voice to a tee, and let the laughter die down. They paid for some ice cream, and then settled at a table next to Harry and Ron.

"And the son?" Ginny continued as she licked her spoon.

"Derek," Hermione said. "Derek is…nice," she hesitated, not sure if she should tell the younger witch that he was a little bit uncomfortable to be around when she was alone.

"Is he cute?"

Hermione smiled, "I guess," she shrugged. "I hate—" she trailed off.

Ginny waited for a moment, "You hate what?"

"Whenever I hear his name, I automatically think they're saying Draco, and then my stomach sinks every time I realize they're just saying Derek," she confessed. "Stupid really," she mumbled. "And what's worse—"

"AHHHHHH!" Harry suddenly screamed in agony as he dropped his ice cream bowl with a crash.

Harry was clutching his scar as he fell off his chair and to the floor in pain.

"Harry!" Hermione and Ginny cried as they rushed to him. Ron was already by his side, and Molly had dropped her treat in a hurry to get to them.

Every single person in the parlor was standing to look at him as he continued to scream.

"MY SCAR!" he bellowed as he clawed at it.

Suddenly, they heard screams from the streets of Diagon Alley. Hermione stood and ran outside, Ginny at her heels.

"What's going on?" the red head cried as they searched the crowd.

"DEATH EATERS!" they heard people shouting.

Hermione and Ginny didn't have to relay the message to those in the parlor, for they too heard the bellows from the witches and wizards on the street. The ice cream parlor went into an instant uproar as everyone made for the door. Ron was helping Harry to stand up.

"Quick, to The Leaky Cauldron!" Molly shouted as she motioned for them to leave.

The chaos outside was unreal, and very much like their fourth year at the Quidditch World Cup. Everyone was running in several directions, and Hermione's heart raced as she grabbed Ginny's hand and ran frantically behind Harry, Ron, and Molly.

* * *

Draco had been furious that his father didn't tell him he was going to get the Dark Mark. He had avoided looking at the black blemish on his arms for days, and had only talked to his father when he was spoken to. 

Draco's stubbornness was not overlooked by Lucius. Lucius could tell that his son was upset that he'd withheld information about Voldemort, but it had to be this way. Draco was ignorant of the past six months of his life—he couldn't explain anything without giving away his past. Draco was a smart boy; he was going to figure out that a huge chunk of his life was missing sooner or later.

For now, all Lucius could do was try and persuade Draco to believe that being a servant to the Dark Lord was his path. He'd begun by giving Draco every book about Dark Magic that he had previously forbidden him to read.

It didn't take long for Draco to become completely immersed in the Dark Arts and abandon his anger towards his father. Within weeks, he was practicing a plethora of spells. Lucius had even taught him how to apparate in case he was ever called by Voldemort. Draco also caught himself examining his new tattoo with curiosity and fascination.

The more Draco read, the more he wanted to be involved with the world of Dark Magic. He began to take pride in his mark, and still couldn't believe that he was a real Death Eater.

"Father, why am I not in school?" Draco asked one day. The question had been at the back of his mind for some time now.

"Things got out of hand and I had to bring you home," was his father's swift reply. It was good enough for him; he'd rather be at the Manor than at Hogwarts with the old oaf Dumbledore breathing down his neck any day.

Draco was strolling down the hall eating a bright green apple when it first happened. A searing hot pain erupted on his left arm and rushed throughout his entire body and he dropped the apple in surprise.

It was the Dark Mark…Voldemort was calling him.

His adrenaline began to pump vigorously throughout his veins as he heard his father's voice in his head. _"If you feel him calling us, apparate immediately to his side."_

Draco took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and concentrated...

When he landed, the first thing his mind registered were distant screams. Draco fell into his new spot in the circle of Death Eaters. A few minutes passed as Voldemot waited for everyone to arrive.

When the circle left no empty spots, Voldemort stiffly said a few choice words.

"He is here. Bring him to me."

Within seconds, the circle dissolved into billowing black cloaks.

Draco caught his father's eye before he threw his cloak over his face and flicked out his wand.

_"Time to catch Potter,"_ he thought to himself.

Still not knowing exactly where he was, he looked up to read the signs over the buildings. "Allivanders," he muttered with a nod. He now recognized this place—Diagon Alley.

He gave a hollow laugh as he stalked down the street, his insides squirming with anticipation. He had an advantage that the other Death Eaters didn't have.

He knew exactly what to look for to find Potter: a clan of red-heads, and a bushy, brown-haired Mudblood. 


	4. First Encounter

**First Encounter**

"Hurry!" Hermione said to Ginny as the two girls fell behind. Hermione didn't want to take her eyes off of the back of Harry's head, but she had to when she felt Ginny being pulled away by the crowd.

"No—" she heard Ginny yelp as a mob of people running out of Flourish and Blotts took her away.

"Ginny!" Hermione cried as she felt the girl's fingers slipping out of her own. Her head whipped around to try and tell Harry to wait, but she could no longer see him. Her eyes searched for a flash of Ron's red hair, but the crowd was swallowing her up. People were now piling out of stores, apparating left and right, and clutching their children as they made a mad dash to escape.

The panic was unreal and Hermione began screaming for Ginny, standing on her tip-toes as she searched the crowd.

"Hermione!" she heard from behind her as she ducked someone's flailing arms.

Hermione spun around, "Ginny?" she had heard Ginny's voice, but still couldn't see her. "Ginny! Where are you?" she cried loudly. She now had her wand out and her knuckles were turning white from her frightened grip.

Her heart was erratic in her chest as she screamed as loudly as she could for Ginny to hear her. There were still people running every which way, and she vaguely wondered if Harry, Ron, or Molly realized that they were missing.

"HERMIONE!"

Hermione's head whipped around so fast that her vision momentarily went black. Blinking furiously, she finally caught sight of Ginny's red hair—she was standing on the steps of Madam Malkin's robe shop so that Hermione could easily spot her. Hermione pushed and shoved her way through the crowd that happened to be running the other direction.

Suddenly, the air filled with different kinds of screams. They were no longer screams of fright; they were screams of anguish. When Hermione reached Ginny, they could clearly see Death Eaters coming around the corner towards the masses of witches and wizards. It didn't seem possible, but the crowd grew even more frenzied as chants from the Death Eaters drew closer.

"Ginny, lets hide in here, there's no time to make it through the crowd," Hermione said as calmly as possible. Ginny nodded as she quickly stepped into the store. Hermione glanced once more at the street before she ducked in after her.

Draco couldn't describe the feeling he was getting from the massive chaos that his company's presence was creating…it was enthralling, and he felt a surge of power run through him every time he heard a scream.

The Death Eaters in front of him were sending killing curses at people who were near enough. Draco inwardly cringed; he didn't think that he could perform the killing curse…yet. He had read all about the curse…it wouldn't work unless you truly had the desire to kill the person. Draco's conscience wasn't quite trained enough to throw his cares to the wind and kill witches and wizards at random without any second thoughts.

He knew that one day, the killing curse would be expected of him. But for now, he had looked through his father's books for curses that were almost equally horrible. His favorite one he'd thus come upon was the suffocating curse, and his company had no problem with it, for unbeknownst to Draco, the curse frequently killed the victim.

_"Suffocos!"_ Draco bellowed at a random witch that was sprinting away from him. She fell to her knees, her hands flying to her throat in surprise. Her face turned purple, and Draco caught the whites of her eyes before she collapsed.

Draco turned when she fell, but still felt a corner of his mind nagging him to return and make sure that she wasn't dead…hurt, but not dead.

"Get a grip Draco," he muttered to himself as he rounded a corner that led to the heart of Diagon Alley. The screaming chaos was ridiculous, but he smirked nonetheless when he saw some Death Eaters stunning every brown haired boy who slightly resembled Potter.

As Draco stalked through the crowd, he pondered the last time he had seen Potter. He clearly remembered the beginning of the year when Potter found out that he would be sharing a dormitory with the Mudblood Granger. Potty and Weaselbee had threatened his very existence if he dare lay a finger on her. Blegh, like he'd ever want to.

What happened after that was hazy to Draco, for he still didn't remember a lot. He did remember the beginning of his seventh year. Snape had assigned them several impossible projects, and he remembered his hectic schedule and his Head Boy duties.

His memory began to falter whenever he attempted to recall the last days before the winter break. He did have a few memories of his father calling him to his office and giving him a portkey, but that was it. Where school was concerned, his father had told him that he had taken him away from Hogwarts because of the war. He hadn't really questioned his father further, but one thing was bothering him. He had found a Daily Prophet on the breakfast table one morning, and he saw that the date was June….

How could it possibly be June? Why couldn't he remember any of the months before? Had the war been too gruesome to handle? Perhaps his father modified his memory…or worse, Voldemort?

Draco had theories swimming around in his head that maybe he had overheard one of Voldemort's plans and Voldemort had taken away his memory because he was not a Death Eater yet, and therefore not trusted. Did he dare ask his father if this were true?

Draco shook his head, for thinking about his lack of memory frustrated him. He turned back to where he was and what he was doing here…he was trying to find Potter. This wasn't the time or place to fret about his hazy memories.

That's when he saw her. The Mudblood Granger; her hair was as bushy as ever, and he grinned at the terrified look on her face. He made a beeline for her, and quickened his pace as she stepped into a store.

His heart sped up as he climbed the steps of the robe shop, for when Granger was around, Potter was usually in tow. He opened the door and closed it loudly behind him.

The robe shop was eerily quiet compared to the streets of Diagon Alley, and he smirked as he saw no sign of the Mudblood's bushy head.

"You can't hide Granger; I know you're in here."

* * *

"Where is everyone?" Ginny asked when they entered. The shop was deserted.

"They're obviously fleeing from the Death Eaters."

"Do you think they'll come in here?"

"I don't know, but I don't want to find out," Hermione said. "We need to hide until help comes."

"Ok, how about in there?" Ginny said as she pointed to a closet.

"We don't have much of a choice, do we?" Hermione said as the girls raced to the door. There were dozens of robes hanging magically, and Ginny pushed them aside to make room for their bodies. Hermione let her knapsack fall to the floor.

"If only I had taken that apparition test with you guys today," Ginny sighed.

"If only," Hermione whispered, her heart slowing down a little as she closed the door behind her.

No sooner had Hermione taken her fingers off of the door handle, did the robe shop door open and close loudly.

Hermione held her breath and looked over at Ginny in what spare light they had.

"Maybe," Hermione breathed softly, "it's just someone else who wants to hide—"

"You can't hide Granger; I know you're in here."

Hermione's heart froze.

"Come out Mudblood, I saw you come in here," Draco taunted as he sent stacks of robes flying into the air in his search for her. "Hiding under here are we?" he mocked as he let them crash to the ground.

Hermione thought she was going to be sick. Her stomach was churning, her lips quivering, and her heart was hammering so fast that it hurt when she breathed the faintest of breaths. The sound of Draco's voice made her palms began to sweat…she could feel her pulse pounding in her ears, her eyes, her fingers, her toes—

"Is that Malfoy?" Ginny whispered, unknowingly interrupting Hermione's turmoil.

"Yes," Hermione answered breathlessly.

"Hiding with Potty and the Weasel," Draco said loudly as he looked through the robes on the racks. Just to make noise, he used his long arms to knock off books, pictures, and flower vases from every table in the store.

Hermione placed her left hand on the door as she took deep breaths to calm her nerves. What was he doing here anyway? Why would he follow her into the shop? She let her hand slide down the door until it rested on the door knob.

"What are you doing?" Ginny breathed.

"I have to see him," Hermione whispered back.

"Hermione, no. You can't do that to yourself. Plus, what if he's—"

"A Death Eater?" Hermione finished hollowly, suddenly realizing the same thing for herself. Though his voice sounded harsh, she knew the real Draco. Even if his memory was erased, that didn't mean that his conscience was. Draco had told her himself that he had never wanted to be a servant to the Dark Lord.

Hermione let her hand fall away from the handle. From the sound of things, Draco was making a mess of the shop in his pursuit of her. The real Draco that she knew so well was not present; she could hear it in his voice—right now he was using the old voice. She knew it well…it had been the voice she had gotten used to for the first six and a half years of her Hogwarts education.

Hermione held back the urge to cry as she heard him muttering obscene things under his breath as he noisily searched the room. Her heart was pounding when he began to near their closet, and she felt Ginny shrinking back as far as she could, while wrapping the cloaks around her body to hide herself. Hermione began to do the same but stopped dead still as the closet door opened.

"Finally," Draco said triumphantly. Her back was turned to him, but he knew it was her for he didn't know another witch with the same bundle of messy brown hair. "Shagging in a closet are we, Granger?"

Hermione didn't speak or move and she felt her heart jumping around inside of her body, trying to fall to the floor if possible.

Draco became impatient with her silence and spun her around to face him, his hand clamping over her wrist.

Her eyes doubled in size as she barely saw his eyes beneath his hooded face. She was blinking furiously and couldn't control the trembles that ran through her body from his simple touch.

"Oh Potter," Draco called in a sarcastic sing-song voice. He used his free hand to reach into the closet.

Hermione's mind sighed in relief as he pulled his hand away without discovering Ginny.

"So where is he, Granger, if not with you?"

Hermione stared at him blankly.

"Oh, I see; he chose Weasel," Draco smirked as he hauled Hermione out of the closet. "Smart boy, wouldn't want to dirty himself with the likes of _you_," he spat.

Draco had expected her to retaliate. He expected her to pull away from his grasp, spit in his face, throw him a curse, or verbally abuse his very existence.

However, she did nothing. She stood unnaturally still, attempting to stare deep into his eyes. There was a part of her that was wondering…hoping that he would tell her that he remembered everything, and that he hated his father, and that he wasn't a Death Eater, and that he was here to steal her away so that they could love each other and live their lives freely—

"What the fuck are you staring at?"

Hermione's eyes flickered to the ground instantly. Her hopeful thoughts flew out of her head, and she couldn't stop her lip from quivering. "You don't remember anything," she breathed extremely softly.

"What was that?"

She glanced back up at his face, but didn't speak.

"I said," he pushed her harshly against the closet door and it shut loudly behind her, "what did you say?"

His proximity was seeping into her again, and her body almost wanted to relax to his touch. Another rough push and she was brought back to the old Draco before her. This was not the man she loved, and her mind was having a hard time grasping it.

"Where is Potter?"

Hermione remained silent.

"I'm a Death Eater now, and if you don't tell me where Potter is…I'll have to curse you."

When she did nothing to reply, he slowly pulled out his wand. This girl was nothing at all as he remembered her. What happened to Hermione Granger, the bitchy know-it-all with a stick up her arse? The Mudblood who never refused verbal combat? The Granger who would pick fights with him about his immoral views, and sadistic attitude? He didn't like this new reserved and silent Granger.

Hermione's eyes flickered to his wand and that was when her mind began to scream at Ginny to get her arse out here and do something because she couldn't get to her wand.

Draco was a Death Eater…he had just admitted that, and Hermione knew that he must have been brainwashed by Lucius since that day...

The memory of the funeral played before her eyes…his hand grasping hers comfortingly, his palm on her knee as she listened to eulogies, his arm around her waist as she watched her parents being placed into the ground, and his last words to her _"I love you, Hermione, please remember that…" _

"You don't have to do this," Hermione whispered suddenly. The thought of Lucius brainwashing Draco had her blood boiling, for she knew him more deeply than anyone else.

Draco grasped his wand tighter as he rolled his eyes at her. "I don't think so, Granger. You can't try and persuade me out of cursing you—"

"When did he make you get it?" she couldn't stop the question from escaping her mouth.

"What?" he asked as his wand was now poking her in the chest.

"Don't play dumb, you heard me," Hermione said, looking down at his arm. Her look alone seemed to boil his anger.

And he had heard her. Draco didn't miss the exact words in her question, 'When did _he_ make you get it…' He—as in Lucius.

He chose to ignore her comment, and stared at her. "I'm only going to ask you once more, Mudblood; where is Potter?"

She cringed every time he called her that, but worked extremely hard not to show it. Hermione glanced around the room, unable to look into this stranger's eyes. That was when her eyes landed on a broken vase with blood red roses scattered about on the floor.

Her mind immediately jumped to the rose petals she had put into her parents' hands at the funeral. That was when her mind also realized that she had never gotten the rose petals from Draco…he must have found them. A tear rolled down her cheek as she remembered how she had wanted to cherish those petals...it was a link she had created for her and her mum and dad, and for all she knew, Malfoy—this stranger—had burned them.

Draco's eyes narrowed as he saw the single tear fall from her eye, roll down her cheek, and fall onto the curve of her neck.

"Crying won't save you, Granger. And since you're obviously not going to tell me Potter's whereabouts, I guess I'm going to have to curse you…_Suff—"_

"The rose petals—" she interrupted hastily.

Draco's heart sped up considerably.

"You found them in your pocket, didn't you," she whispered.

Draco froze. His jaw literally dropped, and his mouth stayed open as he squinted and stared heavily at her. His wand dropped to the floor with a clatter, and he seemed to be getting angry, for the look in his eye was treacherous.

"How the hell—"

"I know a lot more than—"

He didn't let her finish. He slapped her hard across the cheek, and her head fell to the side from the blow.

"Shut-up," he hissed dangerously. "You know nothing about my life."

Hermione felt tears stream down her face. Her head was spinning from Draco's strike, and she knew that he was probably _was_ going to curse her soon if she didn't get away.

Before she lost her nerve, she lunged at him. He saw her attack coming, and pushed her back against the door, his body crushing against hers painfully.

"Stop!" Hermione cried out. He grabbed both of her hands and pinned them to her sides, and his eyes bore into her demonically. He was close enough for Hermione to see the whites of his eyes, and she shuddered. Actually, white would be a gross understatement, for his eyes were grey and bloodshot.

He was crushing her, and breathing began to get more difficult. Then, without a second thought, Hermione did all she could think of. She kneed him between the legs as hard as she possibly could.

"AHHHHRGGG!" he bellowed as he stumbled to the ground.

Hermione thought quickly, she didn't want Draco to know that Ginny was there, and there was no way that they could make it out without being followed by him.

Malfoy was regaining strength, so before he could touch her, she apparated away from him.

Perhaps Hermione only made it to the other side of the store because she was apprehensive about leaving Ginny. Perhaps it was because she wasn't concentrating on any particular location besides 'away from Draco.' Most likely the reason she had only made it ten feet away was because her thoughts were consumed by Draco Malfoy and his transformation from the man she once loved, to a cruel heartless Death Eater whom, for all she knew, had been killing people as a pastime.

Hermione was breathing heavily as she landed with a stumble on the other side of the robe shop. She sucked in air frantically and ducked behind a rack of robes as she heard him rising off the floor.

"Very clever, Granger, but I can still hear you," Draco said as he limped towards her.

Hermione quickly retrieved her wand and before he could come any closer, she leapt up and bellowed, "EXPARILLAMUS!"

The spell worked; his wand went flying among the debris, lost to his eyes. But he barely noticed and resumed walking towards her.

Draco clenched his jaw repeatedly as he walked to her. He noticed that her wand hand was shaking out of control, and he smiled to himself. Her eyes were full of fear, and her tears soaked the neck line of her sleeveless shirt.

Draco stopped a foot away from her, and for the first time since his arrival, removed the hood from his face.

Hermione could not help that her eyes softened a little as he removed the cloak that was obscuring his face.

"How the hell did you know about that?" he asked deadpan.

Hermione knew that he was referring to the rose petals, but she refused to reply.

"ANSWER ME!" Draco bellowed as his hand suddenly slapped her hand so hard that her wand dropped to the floor. Then, without any warning, he lunged at her.

Hermione's screams were swallowed as his hands wrapped themselves tightly around her neck.

"How did you know about them! How!"

Hermione couldn't answer him if she wanted to. She let out a muffled scream as one of his hands moved to press against her mouth. _"WHERE ARE YOU GINNY!"_ she cried in her head.

Hermione could feel her body becoming light. She couldn't breath. Her face was growing hot and she became limp as her eyes landed on Draco's.

The fury that were in them diminished slightly as her brown eyes bore pleadingly into his own. _"Please remember Draco!"_ she screamed in her head. She felt her heart breaking over again as the man she once loved choked the life out of her, but suddenly, the pressure from his hands began to fade.

Hermione's eyes were blurry from tears.

Draco didn't know what happened, but when she made eye contact with him something inside him snapped. He was hurting her…No. He knew what he was doing. He was trying to kill her. She had hit a nerve when she brought up the rose petals…for how in the bleeding world would Granger have possibly known about them? His hands released her neck and mouth slowly. His fury diminished and he felt her gasping for air as he unrestricted her pathway.

**_"STUPEFY!"_**

Draco collapsed face first against Hermione, as stiff as a broomstick. His eyes were open with shock, directly over Hermione's and she continued to stare into them until Ginny raced to her side to push his stiff body off of her.


	5. And So It Begins

** And So It Begins  
**

**_ "STUPEFY!"  
_**

"Hermione! Are you alright?" Ginny cried as she raced over to push Malfoy's stiff body off of Hermione.

"What the bloody hell took you so long!" was what Hermione wanted to say, but what came out was, "I'm okay…I'm okay Ginny."

Hermione rubbed her neck tenderly as Ginny helped her to sit up. Hermione glanced down at Malfoy to find him staring at her with vehemence.

"Serves you right Draco," she whispered to him. She couldn't believe that he'd just had his hands around her neck…that he'd been trying to kill her! _"But he let go…he was about to stop…" _she thought as she unwillingly got lost in his intense grey orbs. She was in such a trance that she didn't even feel Ginny pulling on her arm to help her stand.

"C'mon Hermione, we can't hide in here anymore!"

Hermione nodded as she retrieved her wand, "You're right, let's go."

With one last longing look at Draco, Hermione turned with Ginny towards the door.

Ginny cracked the door opened to check the street. She gasped, "Look!" There, looming in the distance, was the dark mark high in the sky.

They opened the door fully to step out, and found that the streets were no longer bustling with shoppers; in fact, ministry officials and Aurors were there. The only chaos now was mediwitches and wizards scurrying about trying to help the wounded.

Hermione pushed past Ginny and stepped down the steps slowly. There were bodies scattered about the street…the scene caused an eerie shiver to crawl up her spine.

She heard the scrape of Ginny's shoes step beside her as the red head let out a small whimper.

"This is—"

"Awful," Ginny finished for her.

"Ginny! Hermione!"

The girls spun around at the voice of Molly Weasley.

"Oh thank goodness you're both alright!" she cried as she shuffled towards them. She hugged both of them at the same time, and shook with sobs. "I was beside myself with worry, and so angry at the boys for losing you in the crowd!"

"We're alright mum, we hid in there," Ginny said as she pointed to the robe shop.

"That's good of you two to do, I thought for sure that Hermione would try and apparate you both to the Burrow! She's only had her license for a few hours; she probably would have gotten you both splinched!"

"Lucky Hermione knew not to attempt it then."

Molly nodded, "Let us get out of here, looks like the ministry has their hands full."

Hermione was barley listening to them, for she was staring at the people on the street. There were more bodies than she expected, and she watched intently as mediwitches examined them and shook their heads in sorrow. Her eyes left the meditwitches to land on the Aurors, who currently had a few hooded figures restrained. _"Death Eaters," _ she thought to herself.

_"What about Draco? He's a Death Eater…and he's still in the robe shop…" _should she turn him in?

Ginny looked over at Hermione and saw her staring at the Aurors and instantly knew what she was thinking. "Hermione, I think we should tell them."

Hermione's head snapped to the red head. "Do you?"

"Tell who what love?" Molly asked.

"Uhhh," Ginny stuttered as she looked to Hermione.

Hermione gave the girl a nod before turning towards the Aurors.

Hermione heard Ginny begin to explain to her mother the events of the past half hour. Her heart pounded as she neared the Aurors, and she took a few calming breaths before she tapped someone on the shoulder.

"Erm, excuse me sir," Hermione said politely.

The man turned around to face her. "You shouldn't be here, these are dangerous—"

"Death Eaters," she finished for him. "I know where another one is," she went on before the man asked her to leave again.

"You do? Where?" he asked. Her comment caused a few others to lift their heads to listen.

"He's in Madam Malkin's robe shop," Hermione pointed in the direction. "He's stunned."

"What happened, was anyone injured?"

"No, it was me and a friend, we're alright."

"Good, thank you Miss," the man said before a few of them ran towards the shop with their wands out.

Hermione turned back to Ginny and Molly, who respectively, had sympathetic and astonished looks on their faces.

"Where are Harry and Ron?" Hermione asked Molly as she neared them.

"I made them return to the Burrow."

Ginny snorted, "I'm sure they weren't too pleased about that."

"No, but they had no choice! Come along then, let's go."

Hermione saw Molly place her arms around Ginny and apparate them away.

Hermione began to picture the Burrow when suddenly she saw the robe shop door open. Three men walked out, followed by the stunned body of Draco Malfoy. She couldn't help but stare at them openly, and the Auror looked to her with a curt nod.

Her eyes swept over Draco, and her stomach seemed to drop when she caught his eyes boring right through her.

She had just turned him in…he would be going to Azkaban now….

Hermione turned around when she couldn't stand his icy gaze any longer. Why was this happening to her? Why had Draco taken the damned dark mark and become a Death Eater? Why couldn't he remember her? Why didn't he care about hurting innocent people? Why had he changed for the worse?

Hermione thought to herself for moment before realizing that the answer was very simple.

_ "Lucius Malfoy."  
_

* * *

"Where is she, I thought you said she was right behind you!"

"Ron, calm down! She was right behind us!"

"Ginny, Ron's right, it shouldn't take her this long to apparate!"

"Harry, she is distressed from what just happened! Give her a moment!"

"Will you all stop fussing?"

"Mum, maybe you'd better go back and get her!"

"Ronald, she is a big girl she can make it on her—Hermione, there you are!" Molly said as Hermione appeared next to Ron.

"Are you okay?" Ron asked as he put his hand on her shoulder to steady her.

"Yes, thanks," Hermione replied.

"What took you so long?" Ginny asked as she approached her.

"I…I saw them bring him out of the shop," Hermione said quietly.

Ginny nodded, "Oh."

"Saw who bring who out of where?" Ron asked, nudging his sister out of the way.

"Hermione, what happened?" Harry asked, coming up beside Ron.

Hermione sighed and pushed through all three of them to flop down on the lumpy sofa. She brought her hands up to her face and exhaled deeply before she began to tell them about hiding in the robe shop.

When she finished, Harry and Ron had benevolent looks on their faces.

"Do you think they'll send him off to Azkaban?" Ron asked as he took a seat on the arm of the sofa. Harry had taken a seat beside Hermione.

Hermione shrugged with a faraway look, "I dunno."

Harry watched the play of emotions on Hermione's face and saw that she looked worried. "You know what, it hasn't been that long since…ya, know, since his memory was modified. That means he probably got the dark mark shortly after that. I doubt the ministry would penalize him as harshly as they would a long-time Death Eater. Plus, they'll probably get his wand and see what spells he used. If he didn't use the killing curse, they may not even send him to Azkaban."

Hermione was hanging onto every syllable coming out of Harry's mouth. It was all possible….

"Did he try to curse you at all?" Harry asked Hermione.

"Well, yes. He began to say something but it wasn't the killing curse because it started with an 's.' I interrupted him before he could finish it."

Harry nodded, and looked at his hands that were folded in his lap. He felt Ginny sit down beside him a say, "Well I hope you're right Harry. Maybe if the ministry gives him lighter punishment, he'll begin to see the woes of his ways."

Hermione nodded at her words and stared out of a window in the kitchen. The sky was purple from the setting sun and the glow from the moon….

Hermione gasped. "Derek!" she shouted as she leapt up from the couch. "Oh my goodness, I was supposed to meet Derek at five in London, I completely forgot, I have to go!"

Harry stood up beside her. "You're leaving?"

"Yes! I have to go, he'll be wondering where I am!"

Molly came into the living area from the kitchen when she heard the commotion. "Hermione, dear, I insist that you stay here tonight. I already spoke to Arthur, and he says the ministry is in an uproar," she paused while fanning herself nervously. She opened her mouth to continue, but hesitated.

"What is it mum?" Ginny asked.

"They think that tonight was the start of the war."

Hermione felt like she'd been doused with cold water.

"It's not safe there with those muggles anymore. You're an easy target because there is no protection," Molly went on. "You need to stay with us for the time being."

Hermione nodded. "I understand Mrs. Weasley, but I need to at least go and tell Derek that I'm staying here. I don't want Roger to worry about me, and there is no other way for me to contact him."

"Can't you just apparate there and tell Roger yourself?" Ron asked.

"No, he would want to know where Derek was, besides, what would I tell him when he asks me how I got there?"

Ron shrugged.

Hermione shook her head knowing that she was right, and sighed heavily before saying, "I can't leave Derek at the pub, and he's probably already worried that I haven't shown up."

"Alright, but you aren't going alone," Harry said as he stood. "I'm coming with you."

"Do you think that's a good idea?" Ginny said as she stood beside Harry and grabbed his arm to stop him. "I mean, if Voldemort was at Diagon Alley searching for you, it wouldn't be smart to go to a pub across the street from it," she said. Her cheeks grew warm when she noticed how tightly she was clutching at him and she released her death grip hastily. Her cheeks grew even hotter when she saw Harry staring at her intently.

Hermione tried to hide the small smile when she saw Ginny's cheeks flush, and continued, "You saw Diagon Alley Gin; it was crawling with ministry officials and Aurors. Besides, we'll only be there for a few minutes to tell Derek that I'm staying at a friend's house, and then we'll be back."

"Harry, you stay here, I'll go with Hermione," Ron said suddenly.

"Ron—"

"Mate, I don't think I need to spell out to you why you're the last person in this room that needs to go cavorting off right now."

"Maybe Ron's right Harry, you should stay here," Hermione said. She glanced at Ginny, and saw the red-head nodding her head along with her brother.

Harry sighed as he flopped onto the couch, "Fine, go. But please hurry."

"Gin, let mum know that we'll be back soon," Ron said.

Ginny nodded, and resumed her place on the couch beside Harry with a relieved look on her face.

"Ready?" Ron asked.

"When you are," she replied, and in moments they were gone.

When Hermione and Ron landed in The Leakey Cauldron, there were still ministry officials scurrying about.

"Gosh, you'd think they'd have cleaned this all up by now," Ron muttered as they left the wizard inn and cautiously walked across the street to the muggle pub.

Hermione wrinkled her nose as they neared the entrance. Smoke was pouring out of the double doors, and the place reeked of cheap beer and male upchuck. She held her breath as they crossed the threshold.

"Ughh," she made a face when she spotted people passed out all over the floor. "Good heavens, the sun has barely set!"

Ron just laughed, and tried his best to breath only through his mouth for the smells would probably send him hunching over the bar same as the others.

Hermione searched the crowd for Derek, and spotted him and his friends at the end of the bar.

"Derek!" Hermione yelled out to him, and he immediately turned to her.

"Heeyyyy errrrmione!" he slurred drunkenly as he toppled over to her.

Ron stepped up next to her protectively, but she turned around and whispered to him that she was okay.

"Whassss taken you so loooooong girl! We here…we—my boys and me…we been waitin' for you for……hours! Innit that right Daveee!"

The boy whom Hermione assumed was…'Daveee' hopped like a rabbit over to them and nodded his head happily. "Yeaaaa, I gone dun told him that girls…they get lost a lot, and so we," he tried to turn and point to the others, but fell into the bar instead, "thought we'd just get a few…just a few," he laughed at himself, "drinks to pass all the time!"

"So I see," Hermione replied dryly. "Derek, can I talk to you outside for a moment?"

Derek took a long swig of his Corona then smirked at her with a saucy grin on his face. "Say, you're lookin' good tonight!" he said as he leaned towards her.

Derek swayed against her and she caught him by the arms. She shook him slightly and repeated herself, "Can I talk to you outside?"

"Why outside?" Derek asked as he chugged the last of his beer and slammed in down onto the bar. The big bearded man next to them seemed to growl at Derek, and Hermione shrunk closer to Ron.

"Outside," Hermione said forcefully as she took Derek by the arm and led him to the exit.

"I'll be riiiight back Dave! Get us another round!" he shouted as his friends all cheered.

Ron was trying not to laugh at how pissed this guy was, and he trailed after them as Hermione pulled him off the main sidewalk.

"Who are you?" Derek asked suddenly getting inches away from Ron's face.

Ron took a step back, "Ron Weasley, one of Hermione's best friends."

"Ohhh, alright." Derek said as he leaned against the brick wall. He turned so that his whole body was pressed against the wall and hummed in contentment as the cold bricks soothed his boiling skin.

"Derek, you don't need to drive me home, I'm staying at Ron's house with his family."

"This feels gooooood," he sang as he pressed alternating cheeks against the stones.

"Derek! Are you listening to me?" Hermione said as she pulled him forwards by his shirt. "I'm staying at Ron's ho—mphhh—"

She was cut off as Derek swooped down and placed a sloppy wet kiss on her cheek and on a corner of her mouth.

"Derek! Stop it!" she yelled at him as she pushed him off of her.

Ron gasped when Derek kissed her suddenly, and as soon as Hermione shoved him away, he put himself between them.

"Cut it out!" Ron said threateningly. He was ready to beat him into the wall but he felt Hermione's hand on his shoulder.

"Don't bother Ron, he's too pissed to know what he was doing."

"Still, that was uncalled for!"

Hermione shook her head, and again, tried to tell Derek where she would be.

"Okay okay, I get it you're at a friends house! Now can I puhleeeease go back inside? You guyssur boring," he slurred as he turned away and began to stumble back to the entrance.

Hermione had made up her mind, and before Derek could walk out of sight, she got her wand and uttered, _"Sobrietus!"_ The spell hit him in the back and he immediately straightened up.

"Hermione?" Ron said aghast as he watched Hermione quickly stash her wand as Derek turned back towards them.

"What…" he muttered as he looked around him. His hands covered his face and he shook his head in confusion. They heard him ramble under his breath as he made his way back to his friends.

"What did you do that for?" Ron asked.

"I don't think he should be driving in that condition," she said as they went to cross the street back to The Leakey Cauldron.

"Yea, I guess you're right. But he's probably going to go back in there and drink again."

"Maybe, but I bet the pub will close soon."

Ron nodded, "I can't believe he kissed you like that," he said suddenly.

"He was drunk," she said quickly.

Ron looked to her and saw a light flush on her cheeks. "Is there something going on between the two of you?"

"No!" she answered immediately.

Ron laughed, "Okay, okay!"

"Yuck, that kiss was disgusting," she mused and they each laughed aloud again.

"Hey, can I ask you a question before we get back to the Burrow?"

"Yes, of course."

"Do you think there is something going on between Ginny and Harry?"

Hermione smiled knowingly, "Oh Ronald," she said as she looped her arm through his, "I believe there always has been. Why are you playing matchmaker so suddenly?"

"Matchmaker?"

"Yea, you asked about Derek and I, and now about Gin and Harry…is there something that i _you_ /i need to tell i _me_ /i ?" she asked as he held the door to The Leakey Cauldron opened for her.

Ron snorted and rolled his eyes at her.

"I'll take that as a yes," she laughed as they apparated away to the Burrow.

When they arrived at the Burrow, Hermione and Ron relayed the story to Harry and Ginny, and they all shared a good laugh.

"That's brilliant," Harry laughed.

Hermione settled beside Harry, and they all became very quiet.

Hermione stared into the fireplace as she replayed the scene in the robe shop…he'd actually had his hands around her neck to choke her…never mind the curse he almost flung at her. And then she'd opened her mouth about the rose petals! His look had been incredulous rage, and she remembered feeling the frantic beating of his heart against her.

She closed her eyes as she laid the back of her head against Harry's shoulder. The piercing stare Draco had shot at her as the Aurors removed him from the shop was heart shattering. It was a stare devoid of any warm feelings; it was stone-cold hatred. She had turned him in…he could be going to Azkaban.

"Why don't you all come have a cup of tea," Molly's voice broke out suddenly.

No one spoke as they slowly got up off the couch and made their way to the kitchen table. After pouring cups for everyone, Molly sat opposite Hermione.

"Arthur should be home soon, maybe he can tell us what happened."

"Death Eaters ambushed Diagon Alley, I think that about sums up what happened," Ginny said flatly.

"I mean afterwards," Molly continued. "When I went to look for you and Hermione, I heard some men saying that more than thirty people were killed today."

"Thirty people," Ron whispered as he shook his head.

The five of them sat in silence for a long while, all of them consumed by their own thoughts until Molly spoke.

"Arthur's on his way home," she said as she watched his dial on her magical clock switch to 'traveling.' Just as she predicted, minutes later Arthur Weasley appeared in the living room.

Hermione's heart was pounding…would he know anything about Draco?

"Arthur!" Molly sighed as she leapt up to throw her arms around him.

Arthur tried to smile at her, but looked too uneasy to force happiness.

"How bad is it?" Molly said as she helped him to sit down. She poured him a cup of tea and he took a few swigs before answering.

"Thirty-two people were killed today," he said. "The ministry also said that Aurors were only able to catch three Death Eaters."

"Who?" Hermione asked quickly, unable to stop herself. Her heart was beating loudly for some unknown reason for she already knew one of the names….

"Amycus Carrow…" he paused, "and—Draco and Lucius Malfoy."


	6. Harry's Proposition

**Harry's Proposition**

**THRITY-TWO KILLED IN DIAGON ALLEY: THREE DEATH EATERS CAUGHT**

**Thirty-two people were killed yesterday in a massive attack in Diagon Alley. Followers of the Dark Lord ran rampant throughout the streets, killing people at random. Ministry officials and Aurors were on the scene quickly and were able to catch three Death Eaters by the name of Amycus Carrow, Draco Malfoy, and Lucius Malfoy. All three may be sentenced to Azkaban…. **

Below was an animated picture of the same Auror Hermione had talked to as he held the three irate men with a binding spell.

Ginny held the paper as Hermione and Ron looked at it from either side. Harry was standing and reading it over her shoulder with a cup of tea between his fingers.

"I think I'll frame this picture of Lucius," Ron joked for comic relief, and he pointed out the particularly incensed scowl on the elder Malfoy's face.

Ginny and Harry laughed quietly as they took a closer look, but Hermione's eyes were unable to leave the last sentence…_"All three may be sentenced to Azkaban..."_

Ginny glanced at Hermione when she didn't laugh along with them. "Hermione," Ginny said as she placed a hand on hers.

Hermione looked down, and then pushed away from the table. "I'm going to get some fresh air," she whispered as she strode towards the back door.

Ron and Harry had stopped laughing and were now watching along with Ginny as Hermione ran outside with tears in her eyes.

"I can't believe they're thinking of sentencing Draco. Amycus and Lucius have obviously been involved for decades, but Draco? He just got the Dark Mark! Even he doesn't deserve to go to Azkaban," Harry said heavily as he took Hermione's vacant chair.

"Yes, but the ministry doesn't know that. He's the son of Lucius; they probably assume that he's had the Dark Mark for years—"

"But he hasn't! According to Hermione he did _not_ have the mark _or_ any intentions of getting one!" Harry said heatedly.

"If only there were a way we could prove it," Ginny sighed as she folded The Daily Prophet.

Harry's mouth dropped open as an idea hit him, "Wait," Harry said, "maybe there is," he mumbled, and he quickly got up from his chair and rushed to the back door.

"Oye, what are you on about?" Ron called as he and his sister hopped up to follow.

"Hermione, I have an idea," Harry called out as he treaded towards her.

She glanced up at him, "What?" she asked as she tore up a few strands of grass.

When Harry reached her, he knelt down so that he was eye-level with her, "The ministry is going to have a hearing to determine their sentences, right?"

"Probably," she shrugged as she watched Ginny and Ron appear behind Harry.

"Testify for him, tell them that you know he was forced into becoming a Death Eater, show them your Pensieve if you must, that's evidence to prove that he was coerced into becoming something that he didn't want to be!"

Hermione shook her head, "Harry, you didn't see him at the robe shop. He—he acted as though he was pleased to be a Death Eater."

"That was probably a façade! We all thought he wanted to become a spitting image of his bastard of a father, and then came seventh year and within a few months it was revealed that he'd never wanted anything to do with Lucius."

Hermione chewed on her bottom lip as she mulled over his words.

"Hermione, you loved Draco," he said then smiled at her. "By the look in you eyes at the very mention of his name, you still love him."

Hermione looked up at him with glistening eyes, "Of course I still love him, but do you really think I can save him?"

"Harry, I think it's a good idea," Ginny cut in, "but Hermione can't stroll into court out of nowhere—"

"She can go to Dad," Ron interrupted. "He helped Harry when he went to court, I'll bet he can help Hermione now."

Ginny nodded, "Right, we'll just have to wait for him to come home. Tonight, we'll ask him."

"Wait, this won't work!" Hermione suddenly said, her voice cracking a bit. "If I testify for him, that mean he's going to be in the room. Perhaps you all have forgotten, but he lost his memory! He won't remember anything! How do you think he's going to react to me defending him!"

Harry sighed as he stood up and paced a few steps, "Maybe…maybe you can explain the situation and ask to testify privately…I don't know…there must be a way."

* * *

Draco couldn't recall any point in his life when his father had been so quiet. Not once since that smug Auror hauled him out of the robe shop had his father uttered a single syllable, and it was beginning to unnerve him. Lucius always had an opinion about everything, and had no problem vocalizing his generalizations no matter how harsh, crude, or unnecessary the comment.

But not once since Draco had been magically bound beside his father had he said a thing. Even as Draco strained his ears, all he could hear was the harsh intake of breath. He presumed that an unnatural scowl consumed his father's face, but couldn't turn to see for himself.

"_I can't believe this…I can't believe we've been caught,"_ he thought miserably as he struggled vainly against the magical bounds. He didn't doubt the reasons as to why Amycus had been captured; he was not the most intelligent of men, and had slower reflexes than that oaf Hagrid.

Draco was itching to learn what had happened to his father, but didn't dare ask for he valued his life…or at least, what was left of it. Most likely, his father had been outnumbered by Aurors; there simply was no other explanation for he was more equipped with the Dark Arts than the whole of Diagon Alley.

But he…he had been bested by _her_. The Mudblood. Again, she had won. Why was he always on the losing side? And yet while his mind should have been dwelling over why he hadn't cursed her and forced her to spill the whereabouts of Potter, he couldn't fathom how she could have possibly known about the bloody rose petals.

Even when his mind wondered why he hadn't choked the life out of her, or why he hadn't apparated her away to torture her, he always ended up reliving her question…._"The rose petals…you found them in your pocket didn't you?"_

He had, and the fact that she had known had sent him into a mad furry that ultimately led him to his current predicament of being bound by Aurors and other Ministry officials. He half-listened to their hushed conversations about the damage that Death Eaters had caused, and barely registered the fact that there were cameras all around snapping pictures of him, Carrow, and his father.

Draco turned his head away from the camera, not only from embarrassment, but because the lights were damn bright and he had a headache the size of the UK.

Ten minutes passed before the same smug Auror came about and apparated them to the Ministry. When they landed, the Aurors placed the three of them in separate rooms. Not one of them had spoken a word, and before they closed the door, they looked at him as though they had just birthed a blast-ended skrewt.

As soon as the steel door slammed shut, Draco's nerves consumed him. Would he be sentenced to Azkaban? For Merlin's sake, he'd barely gotten the Dark Mark!

Draco leaned against the cold stone wall and slid down the side until his head hung limply between his legs. He wanted to leap up and smash the wall in and scream as loudly as he could, but he knew that that would only result in a bruised hand and a sore throat.

He had anger for himself…why in the hell had he gotten the mark—No, why had he i _let /i _ his father give him the damned mark? Lucius had barged into his room one random morning and brought him to Voldemort who was awaiting his arrival to burn his flesh with an evil symbol to assure his loyalty…and not by Draco's choice.

Why hadn't he gotten any say in the matter? Draco assumed that they were being held in these chambers to await some sort of court to determine their sentences. Should he enlighten the courts about it? Should he tell them that he didn't want anything to do with the Death Eaters? Would they let him go then?

It would be partially true. While he could, to himself, admit that he had enjoyed learning about the dark arts and practicing spells with his father, perhaps he had psychologically forced himself to pretend that he was glad to be a Death Eater so that he could please his father. Deep down, he knew that that was the extent to his liking of the tattoo on his forearm. Perhaps he could even suggest drinking Veritaserum to prove his innocence….

As Draco's thoughts drifted to the wizarding prison, he shuddered at the idea of spending any time at all in Azkaban. His father had been there before, and had told Draco the horrors of what went on in the deep dark cells of the wizarding prison.

The one thing that Draco had going for him was that his wand was clean of the killing curse. That ought to count for something, for it proved that he had never killed, or used an unforgivable. What Draco didn't know, was would the Ministry feel that the curses he had used were as bad as the unforgivables?

Draco closed his eyes and sighed deeply, dwelling on that thought…but his eyes shot open when for some unfathomable reason, Hermione Granger's face flashed before his eyes when he had briefly closed them. What came to mind was the look they had exchanged when the Auror brought him out of the robe shop…and he was certain that it was she who turned him in.

And of course, with the thought of Granger, came the thought of the rose petals. Even now, sitting in a cold cell, he couldn't find any reason why she could have known about them. Perhaps she had…an invisible spy…maybe a house elf…watching him…which he knew was complete and utter bullocks.

Draco knew what was before him: a possible sentence in Azkaban, and he knew that he needed to mentally prepare for that. However, a part of him refused to do this. There was no chance that they would send him to Azkaban, he himself had just brainstormed a list of reasons why he should be set free.

But would his word and his word alone be enough to save his own life?

* * *

Hermione sighed as she shut a novel that she had just finished. She leaned back against the headboard of her bed in Ginny's room, and peered into the hallway for the red-head. Ginny had slipped out half an hour ago, and Hermione wasn't exactly sure i _where /i _ she had gone. She didn't dwell too long on this thought, for she suddenly heard the sound of Arthur Weasley's voice in the kitchen.

After a few minutes, Hermione stood and treaded to the top of the stairs. She wanted to talk to Mr. Weasley…privately, without Molly or Harry and the others. She needed to get Harry's preposterous idea off her chest…for it was ludicrous, impossible really….

Before Hermione realized it, her feet had carried her down to the kitchen. Mr. Weasley sat at the end of the table eating leftovers from dinner as he peered down his long nose at a newspaper. Dishes were magically being washed, and there was no sign of Molly.

His eyes lifted to meet hers when she cleared her throat. "Well 'ello Hermione, how are you this evening?"

"Fine Mr. Weasley, and yourself?"

"Good, good, just had a very long day at work. The ministry was frantic today."

Hermione nodded, "Yes, what with three Death Eaters caught, I can't imagine how it must have been."

Arthur nodded as he continued to eat his supper.

"Mr. Weasley, can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"I trust you remember that not long ago, I was dating Draco Malfoy. You were there when he had his memories stolen away from him, and I'm assuming you remember that his father took him away."

Arthur had stopped eating to look up at her, "Yes Hermione, I remember."

Hermione tentatively took a seat across from him and continued, "When I saw him yesterday in Diagon Alley, I couldn't believe that he wore a Death Eater mask. At Hogwarts, before his memory was modified, he had told me on many occasions that his father wanted him to become one, but that he had no intentions of ever joining Voldemort."

Arthur folded his hands and placed them under his chin. His eyebrows were raised and he had a skeptical look in his eyes as he stretched his lips to resemble a smile. "And why would he tell you that? How do you know that that was the truth?"

Hermione knew at that moment that she needed to start from the beginning. She needed to sit here and tell Mr. Weasley everything that happened in her life in the past six months. Then, maybe he would understand why she was certain.

For the next half hour, Hermione relived everything that had happened since Christmas. Arthur remained quiet and let her talk, and by the end of the story, he was gnawing on the inside of his mouth as he poked around at his cold food.

"So you see Mr. Weasley, Draco had numerous opportunities to cooperate with the Death Eaters and help kidnap me to get to Harry. But he didn't. And after a while," she blushed slightly, "we fell in love. I know him more deeply than anyone ever has and I'm telling you…he would never willingly join Voldemort."

Arthur sighed, "I hear what you're saying, but you've got to remember that his memory was taken away from him. He could very well have changed his mind to become a Death Eater."

"_Obliviate_ destroys your memories Mr. Weasley, not your conscience. And since his conscience was not affected by the curse, which can only lead me to believe that he did not get the Dark Mark willingly."

"So you're suggesting that he was _forced_ to take the Dark Mark?"

"I don't know, but if he was, do you really think he deserves to go to Azkaban?"

Comprehension dawned on Arthur's face, "You want me to say something in his defense?"

"Well, I was actually thinking that _I_ could testify on his behalf."

"You? Well, I'm not sure—"

"Please Mr. Weasley, can't you just check and see if they'll allow me to help him? He can't go to Azkaban," she said harshly then softened her eyes, "he just can't," she whispered.

Arthur thought for a moment and nodded, "I'll check, but I can't promise you anything."

"Thank you so much Mr. Weasley, but I have one more concern. If they say that I can testify, could you also request that I do so privately?"

"Privately?"

"Yes, well, what I mean is…not in front of Draco. In his mind, we aren't friends. He would probably ask questions if he heard my explanation."

"I'm sure—if they agree—that they would let you sign an affidavit," he replied. When he saw an unsure look on her face, he explained, "An affidavit is a written statement that the writer swears is true, so you'd never have to see him."

"Right," she nodded.

"I'll talk to someone tomorrow, but again, don't get your hopes up."

"Thank you so much Mr. Weasley," she said. She stood up and headed for the stairs.

"Hermione?"

"Yes?" she turned around.

"I may not like the Malfoy's, but I do hope that this all works out. From what you've just told me, the young man doesn't deserve to rot with the likes of his father."

Hermione smiled, "I completely agree. Thanks again, and goodnight."

"Night," he called.

Hermione climbed the stairs with an elated heart. She had no idea that this small bit of hope would make her smile so grandly, and she clenched her fists with excitement.

She headed to where Harry's room was to let him know that she had talked with Mr. Weasley about his idea, but heard some peculiar noises coming from behind the closed door.

Hermione blushed as she heard Ginny's moans echo in the hallway. Okay…well, at least now she knew where Ginny had been all this time! She flinched when she heard Harry's answering groan, and quickly flicked out her wand to perform the silencing spell that they had forgotten to use on the door.

She laughed a bit to herself and headed up to the top floor to tell Ron.

"Hey Hermione, I was just heading to bed," Ron said when he saw her appear at his door.

"Yea, me too, I just wanted to tell you that I just talked to your dad about helping Draco."

"That's good, what did he say?"

"Well," she said as she stepped further into the room, "At first he didn't really believe me when I told him that he never wanted to become a Death Eater. But then I explained everything that has happened since Christmas, and he seemed to understand that I was right."

"And what's he going to do about it?" Ron asked.

"He said he's going to talk to someone tomorrow to see if I'm allowed to testify."

Ron was smiling, "That's great to hear! Did you tell Harry that his plan worked?"

"Erm," Hermione laughed a bit, "Harry is…busy at the moment. I'll tell him tomorrow."

"Busy doing what?"

Hermione blushed and Ron finally caught on.

"Oh," he said stoutly, and then laughed, "I told you there was something going on with those two!"

Hermione smiled and shook her head, "Goodnight Ronald, I'll see you in the morning," she said as she gave him a quick hug.

As she passed Harry's room on her way down, she couldn't help but think about how much she missed Draco's touch. She imagined his lips upon hers, his strong arms braced roughly around her body, and the smoothness of his hair between her fingertips.

As Hermione washed her face in the loo, she replayed the numerous snog sessions she had undergone with Draco, and had the sudden desire to watch them all in her Pensieve. But as she made her way back to Ginny's room, she remembered that all of her belongings were still at Roger's house, including her Pensieve.

Well, not only did she want to look in her Pensieve now, she knew she may also need it for proof for Draco.

"_Tomorrow, I need to go and get all of my things from Roger's house,"_ she thought as she snuggled underneath her blankets. She hoped that Derek had made it home unscathed and hoped that they wouldn't ask too many questions about why she was leaving.


	7. Dinner With Derek

**Dinner with Derek**

Hermione was awoken the next morning from the sun shining over her bed spread in small strips through Ginny's window blinds.

She sat up and began to wipe the sleep from her eyes as she adjusted them to glance around the room. She spotted Ginny sitting on her windowsill staring out at her yard. When the red-head heard the sheets ruffling, she turned her attention to the older witch.

"Good morning Hermione!" she said cheerfully.

"Morning to you too," Hermione replied as she moved her pillow behind her before she rested her back against the head board. "What are you doing up already? You always out-sleep me," Hermione said with a smile.

"Oh, I couldn't really sleep," Ginny grinned.

"Long night?" Hermione asked before she could stop herself. She had a knowing look in her eyes.

Ginny's jaw dropped as she stared at Hermione. "I—" she began, "How did you know?"

"I took the liberty of performing the silencing spell on your door when I walked past Harry's room. You ought to remember that spell for…next time. I can't imagine what Molly would do if she were to hear the noises you two were making in there," Hermione laughed.

Ginny stood to join Hermione on the bed. "Hermione…" she sighed loudly, "Harry is so wonderful! Especially when he—"

"Please," Hermione's hand flew up to stop her, "spare me the details, I've already heard more than I ever want to hear!"

Ginny scoffed in mock anger but laughed along with her.

"Gin, last night I talked to your dad about helping Draco."

Ginny stopped laughing to focus on what she had just said, "And? What did he say? Can you testify for him?"

"He's not sure, but he said that he would try and check for me today at work."

"Well that's good, right?"

Hermione nodded her head in affirmation, "Yes, I think so. And if the courts allow me to testify, your dad even said that I could do it privately so that Draco wouldn't ask questions."

"That's great news!" Ginny said happily. "That must give you a lot of hope. If Draco is saved from going to Azkaban, perhaps he can turn his life around and regain his memories so that he can pick up where you two left off."

"Yea," Hermione whispered hopefully as she traced the patterns on the sheets beneath her. "Say what time is it?"

"It's only half past seven," Ginny said. "I've no idea why I'm not the least bit tired."

"What do you say we go and wake the boys?"

"They'll probably strangle us!" Ginny laughed.

Hermione shrugged and hopped up out of bed and raced to the door, Ginny trailing right behind her.

Thirty minutes later, Hermione, Ginny, and Harry sat around the breakfast table. Ron had slapped their waking hands away and dove beneath the covers in exasperation. He refused to get up, but Hermione was sure that when he smelled breakfast cooking, he would clamber down the stairs.

"Harry," Hermione pulled Harry aside before they reached the kitchen, "I talked to Mr. Weasley last night."

Harry lightly touched her elbows with his fingers, "What did he say?"

She quickly recapped what she had already told Ron and Ginny.

Harry pulled her into a big hug, "That's good to hear Hermione." He grinned and pulled her into the kitchen where Ginny was pouring them all drinks.

Just as Hermione had predicted, as soon as Molly began to fry up some eggs Ron dashed down the stairs with his hair pointing out every which way.

"Morning everyone," he said as if they hadn't just tried to wake him up. He took a seat next to Hermione and slung an arm around the back of her chair, "So, what's for breakfast? I'm famished!"

Everyone in the kitchen laughed aloud as they stared at Ron with incredulity.

"What are we going to do today?" Harry asked as he helped himself to a steaming plate of eggs. Hermione didn't miss the covert smiles between Harry and Ginny, or the small game of footsie that they had begun as soon as they had sat at the table.

"Fred and George are coming home in a wee bit," Molly replied.

"Brilliant! I'll bet we can get a Quidditch game going," Ron said. "It's been a while since we've scrimmaged, eh?"

Ginny and Harry nodded their heads in agreement.

Hermione grimaced at the thought of Quidditch, but then remembered that she needed to go back to Roger's house. "Actually, that'll be perfect because I was going to head back to Roger's house. I need to get my things if I'll be staying here, or else Ginny will soon run out of clean clothes to wear," Hermione said as she buttered a piece of bread.

"As if a cleaning spell doesn't solve that problem," Ginny replied.

"Yes, I know, but I do need a few other things. Plus I'd like to make sure that Derek relayed the message to Roger and Chloe of my whereabouts."

Right after breakfast, Harry, Ron, and Ginny fetched their brooms and went outside to warm up as they were determined to beat the twins in the game. Hermione had finished her novel the night before, and didn't have anything to do but watch. She didn't want to get to Roger's house too early in case they wanted to have a lay-in.

When Fred and George arrived, they scooped Hermione up and spun her around a few times in a joking manner. She let them know that she had to leave and was 'truly sorry' that she would have to miss their scrimmage.

"C'mon Hermione, you've got to play! Otherwise our teams will be uneven and that's hardly fair now, is it?" Fred pleaded.

"I thought you would have realized years ago that there is nothing at all you can do to get me on a broomstick," Hermione shot back playfully. "Besides, I have business to take care of," she said as she flipped her hair over her shoulder.

"_Well,"_ George said in a mocking female tone, and he flipped his head around so that his hair flew in a large halo about his face.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "I'll see you all later," she said as she waved goodbye and then headed back inside to gather her robes. She bid Molly goodbye before she began to concentrate on Roger's house….

* * *

"Good morning Miss Hermione!"

Hermione smiled as she was warmly greeted by one of the maids at the front door of Roger's Mansion. "Hello," Hermione replied as she stepped into the house.

"May I take these for you?" the maid asked as she motioned for Hermione's robes.

"Oh no, that's alright. Is Roger here? Or Chloe—"

"Hermione, I thought I recognized your voice," Derek interrupted as he strolled out of his music room and into the main foyer.

"Hello," Hermione greeted him with a wave. She watched as Derek nodded for the maid to leave them. "I'm glad to see you made it home okay."

Derek cocked his head to the side, "What do you mean?"

"You were pretty far gone at the pub when I met you," Hermione said. "Did you pass my message along to Roger and your mum?"

"Yes, I let them know that you were at a friend's house," Derek said as he crossed his arms over his white jumper.

Hermione tried to ignore the stretch of the material over his chest, but blushed slightly when she couldn't tear her eyes away. "Umm, and your other friends? They're fine I presume?"

"You presume correctly, they are in perfect health."

Hermione nodded, "Good. That—that's good to hear," Hermione said, suddenly realizing that she was now stuttering and she ordered herself to close her mouth.

"So, why are you back so soon?"

"Oh!" Hermione said as she held up her robes, "I needed to get clothes and my Pensi…my uhh, my pens and paper, you know, to write. Letters, that is, to people. Who—can read….them," Hermione's cheeks were burning as she tried to cover up her slip.

"Okay then," Derek was smiling.

"Where are Roger and your mum?" she asked quickly, trying to change the topic.

"They're not here; they went out of town again on some wedding business."

"Oh," Hermione whispered, a little relieved that they weren't there. If they were, they would probably ask how she got there, and how she was planning to get back. Knowing Roger, he probably would have insisted on driving her back himself which would certainly cause problems. Derek probably wouldn't even think to ask her how she got there.

"Well, I'll just go on up to my room," Hermione said, and she began to make her way up the stairs before Derek could stop her.

Hermione reached her room and immediately got her bags and began to pack all of her clothing. She placed her Pensieve neatly in the middle of the bag and stuffed some jumpers around it to make sure it wouldn't get damaged.

She wasn't sure if that were enough to protect it, and she almost reached for her wand to perform a spell until she heard Derek's voice.

"So," he said after clearing his throat, "how are your friends doing?"

Hermione's heart was racing from fear of almost performing magic in front of him and she placed her hand over her chest, "You startled me."

"Sorry," he replied as he went to help her pack.

"No, it's okay, I've got it," she insisted as she shooed his hands away. "Uhh, my friends are all fine thank you."

Derek perched himself on the end of her bed and sighed loudly. "Got you pens and paper?" he asked with a smirk.

God…that smirk reminded her so much of Draco that she stopped to stare for a moment too long.

"Yes," she bit out as she flipped her head back to her bags, "I already packed my stationary." As she zipped up one of her bags, she felt Derek place a hand over hers.

"Listen, Roger and my mum have been gone for almost a week. I'm getting lonely in this mansion all by myself, why don't you stay for dinner?"

Hermione pulled her hand away, "Dinner? But it's not even noon."

"I know, you can spend the afternoon with me, and then have dinner with me tonight. I'm sure the cooks would welcome another mouth to feed besides my own."

Hermione finished zipping her last bag and let it fall heavily to the floor. "Well, my friends are expecting me back—"

"You can always call them and tell them that you're staying," he pressed.

"I don't know Derek—"

"You're packing your bags, which means that this is the last time I'll see you. Please stay; we can make it a farewell dinner."

Hermione could tell that he wasn't going to take no for an answer. She dropped her hands to her side and nodded her head, "Okay, I'll stay."

Derek grinned from ear to ear, "Terrific! I'll go and tell the cooks while you finish packing. There's a telephone in the room across the hall so you can let your friends know."

Hermione nodded and watched Derek walk down the grand staircase. When he was out of site, she shut her door and Apparated immediately to the Burrow.

She landed in the living room where Molly was lounging on the couch.

"That was fast dear," Molly commented as she looked up at Hermione.

"Yes, well I'm going back in a moment. I've been invited to a farewell dinner," she explained. "How long will Fred and George be here?" she asked. She wanted to visit with them for longer than a few minutes, but didn't have time at that moment.

"Oh they'll be staying for the night," Molly assured her.

"Good, could you tell everyone that I'll see them later this evening?"

"Of course."

"Thank you Mrs. Weasley," Hermione smiled, and she Apparated herself back to the mansion.

Hermione landed by her bed, grateful that Derek hadn't come back to her room. She opened the door quietly, and crossed the hall to the room with the phone just in case Derek came back. Hermione sat on the edge of the bed, picked up the phone, and held it to her ear for a few minutes just in case he was near another phone and could tell if it was being used or not. Then she hung up, and leaned back on the soft mattress with both arms holding up her body.

She had never been in this room, but it smelled like fresh paint. It was lavender, and the furnishing was breathtaking. There was an enormous picture of purple flowers that looked like a genuine hand tipped painting that hung above the nightstand. The four-post bed had a huge white lacy net hanging from each post, and she eased herself backwards so that she was staring at the ceiling through the lace.

She let her eyes fall closed as she slowly exhaled a long drawn out breath.

"Comfortable?"

Hermione's eyes snapped opened when she heard Derek's voice. Before she could reply, he laid down beside her.

She turned her head to him, "Quite," she answered. "I never did come into this room, the bed is very cozy."

"Did you get into contact with your friends?"

Hermione nodded, "Yes, I let them know that I would be home later this evening."

Derek didn't seem to be listening to her anymore, for his eyes were glued to her lips.

Hermione sucked in a breath as she turned her head away from him. Suddenly, Derek sat up, leaned over her, and pressed his lips to hers.

She was so surprised that she gasped audibly. She was frozen, and her arms and legs went rigid, unable to take commands from her brain to leap away from him. His lips did nothing more than peck at hers, and before Hermione knew it he pulled away and smiled down at her.

Hermione was momentarily speechless as she stared up at him with wide eyes. He moved to lie back down beside her and she smiled when she felt his hand rest on top of hers. _"Draco used to do that—"_

"I apologize for that," he interrupted her thoughts, "I couldn't help myself."

Hermione didn't reply.

"So, what would you like to do?" Derek asked as he sat up and stood. He brought her with him and dropped her hand when she got on her feet.

Hermione shook off her nerves as she looked up into his eyes. "I don't know, what do you suggest?"

"Well," he grinned, "How about a movie? We just got this new feature on the telly that lets us buy whatever movies we want, whenever we want."

"A movie sounds great," she said quickly. Usually Hermione didn't prefer to watch movies and such, but at the moment, it sounded wonderful for it didn't require conversation.

Hermione was still a little shaky as they made their way down the stairs. She couldn't believe he had kissed her like that…she really hadn't had time to process it while it was happening, but then his comment that he 'couldn't help himself' worried her that he might try it again.

She was proven correct as during the movie, he had his arm around her and he kept watching her instead of the screen.

It was really starting to bother her, and she finally turned her head to him and told him that he needed to watch the movie.

"I've already seen it."

"Well then why did you insist on watching it?"

"I thought you'd enjoy it."

"Well I can't enjoy it while you're examining the pores on my nose," she snapped, and he finally turned away from her.

Luckily, it was a rather long movie and when it was finished, they decided to take a walk in the garden to wait for dinner to be ready.

They walked in silence for a while, unsure of what to talk about as they didn't have much in common.

"So do you know yet where you're going to go to Uni?"

Hermione shrugged, "No. My life is too unstable to make a big decision like that."

"How is it unstable?"

She shrugged again, "It's complicated. What about you? Are you planning on returning to Aberdeen?"

Derek nodded, "Yes, I like it there very much. You should really consider it someday."

"I may," she replied, and silence overtook them once more.

"My cousin Evi goes there, she's our age, and her sister Charlie who's a year younger will probably go there as well. Aberdeen is sort of a tradition in this family I guess, for our parents went there before us."

Derek talked a bit more about his cousins who lived with their father, Matthew Sinclair. Hermione had already heard of him, for he was the director of the funeral for her parents. Derek described his cousins as blunt, bold, and beautiful, and the more he spoke of them the more Hermione felt intimidated by them.

The trees were swaying gently in a light breeze and they passed a patch of bright red, pink and maroon flowers. Suddenly, they came upon rich purple flowers.

"Wow, those are beautiful," Hermione exclaimed as she went to smell one.

"These flowers are called Agapanthus," Derek said, and he picked one and dusted off the dirt from the root. "It means 'secret love,'" he said as he handed it to Hermione.

She reached for it, but didn't miss the gleam in his eyes. "Did you just make that up?"

Derek grinned and kept on walking. She watched him saunter down the path, and held the purple flower up to her nose as she slowly followed his footsteps in the dirt.

"Dinner should be ready soon, why don't we head back?"

The decision was made up for them for at that moment a low rumble of thunder was heard booming in the distance. Hermione turned her eyes towards the sky to find it darker than it had been when they had first ventured into the garden.

"Yes, be better get in before the storm comes," Hermione said, and they quickly made their way back towards the house. They barely made it for just as they closed the huge sliding glass door, the rain began to pour from the sky.

"I'm going to clean up, why don't you throw on something nice for dinner?" Derek suggested.

Hermione glanced down at her outfit as he walked off, wondering why her out wasn't nice enough. She ventured into the dining room and was surprised to find candles lit everywhere. The table was elaborately set for two people, and the centerpiece just happened to be of the purple flowers that he had picked for her moments ago. In fact, she still held one in her hand.

Without knowing exactly why, she dropped the flower in a hurry as if it had suddenly felt like fire against her skin.

"Miss?"

Hermione spun around at the sound of a maid's voice, "Yes?"

"Miss, are you alright?"

"Uhhh, yea. Yes. I'm—I'm fine."

The graying woman smiled at her warmly, "Dinner will be served shortly Miss."

"Oh, thank you," she replied.

As the maid walked off, she knelt down to pick up Hermione's discarded flower.

Hermione sighed. This dinner looked fancy and…romantic. It was the absolute last thing she wanted to endure. She was looking forward to seeing the twins, for she hadn't laughed with them in a long time. Dinner with Derek was going to be awkward, especially after he had kissed her earlier that same day.

There wasn't much she could do about it now though. She could just leave without telling him, but that would be rude, and she was sure she would see him again eventually. It would be ten times more awkward to face him in the future if she bailed.

As Hermione plodded upstairs to change her outfit, she began to brainstorm ideas for conversation to try and make this dinner go by as fast as possible.

She rummaged through her bags and found the most boring, dull gray shirt she owned. She dressed it up a bit by putting on her black pumps under some baggy jeans, and she examined herself in the mirror before she deemed herself 'unappealing.' She laughed a bit at her reflection, for she had never really deliberately dressed to un-impress a boy before, and she found it a little amusing.

As she stepped out into the hallway, she heard Derek's voice in the hallway downstairs. She carefully peered over the railing and her jaw dropped when she saw that he was dressed in a three-piece suit.

"What?" she mouthed in exasperation as she spied on him from above.

Derek stuffed his hands in his pockets and Hermione ducked away before his head turned towards the top of the stairs. She slipped back into her room and began to take her outfit off. If she went down in this, it would only serve to embarrass herself.

She pulled on her nicest pair of jeans, and randomly selected an off-white shirt that hung off her shoulders. It was baggy enough to not hug her body too tightly, and cut high enough so that his eyes wouldn't wander.

She pulled on her pumps and didn't even bother to look in the mirror before she trudged out of her room and down the stairs.

Hermione smiled grimly as Derek observed her walking down the stairs. She tried to hide the grimace on her face when he offered her his arm, but she took it and let him lead her to the dining room.

The food was exquisite; it always was. And fortunately for Hermione, the conversation flowed nicely. Derek mainly talked of his cousins, his plans for the future and about Roger and his mother's wedding.

When the desert was served, a very anxious feeling overcame Hermione very suddenly. Derek continued to talk vainly, not noticing that Hermione was paying him no attention at all. She continued to eat, but began to fidget as she had had quite enough of Derek for one day.

"I have to get going," Hermione said suddenly, interrupting him in the midst of a story.

"Oh—okay, are you sure?"

Hermione was already standing and tossed her dinner cloth onto the table. "Thank you for dinner, I'll see you soon," she said and she leaned down to give him a quick hug, making sure to pull away before he could get his hands around her.

"How are you getting—" Derek began to ask but was interrupted by a maid. He looked up at her, "What is it?"

"Pardon me sir, a friend of yours is on the phone. He says it's urgent."

When Derek looked back up towards Hermione she was already gone. "Hermione?" he called out to her, but she didn't answer.

"Sir?" the maid said, "He's on hold."

"Alright, I'm coming," Derek said as he shoved his chair backwards.

Hermione thanked Merlin for the distraction because she was sure that he was about to ask her how she was getting back. She ran up the stairs, grabbed her bags, and Apparated back to the Burrow.

As soon as she landed she screeched as she immediately felt a large hand clamp over her mouth and a low, male voice whisper, "Don't move."

Hermione froze as her eyes grew wide in the complete darkness of the Burrow. She heard him rummaging through his pockets, presumably for his wand since it seemed she had caught him off guard.

Thinking quickly, she dropped her bags heavily to the floor. This startled the man behind her, and in a moment she grabbed her wand, spun around, and had the tip of her wand stabbing him in the chest.

She gasped when she saw the Death Eater mask, and quickly bellowed, "STUPEFY!" Her stomach lurked as she watched the man fell roughly to the floor.

The eerie feeling of déjà vu hit her suddenly as she peered down at the mass of black robes. Only months ago, Draco had been beneath a jumble of robes just like this…was it possible that this was him again? Had he escaped the ministry?

She knelt down to reveal the face of this person, but she suddenly heard screams from outside. She bolted upright with her wand out as she realized that there could have been another Death Eater in the room, and muttered, _lumos_ to ignite her wand.

The living room was in total disarray. Dishes from the kitchen were strewn all over the floor, and there was blood all over the couch. Hermione heard screams from outside, and she rushed to the back door to find dozens of witches and wizards in the midst of a battle.

Fright had already gripped her nerves as she gripped her wand even tighter. Death Eaters were everywhere…ministry officials, Aurors, and–and bodies were lying on the Earth's floor.

Hermione's eyes began to frantically search for Harry, or any sign of the Weasleys, but she didn't recognize a soul. Her mind and heart were racing, and she stayed deathly still, transfixed on the scene of a night she had anticipated for the last seven years of her life.


	8. Ambush

**Ambush**

Draco Malfoy's lazy grey eyes shifted towards the door of his cell as it was scraped open by a gawky brunette man.

"Meal time," the man grumbled as he plopped a bowl of soup onto the floor in front of Draco. The contents of the bowl spilled all over the ground, a small portion landing on Draco's shoe but he didn't move, only shifted his eyes back to the wall as the man left.

Draco sniffed the air to catch a scent of today's meal, but there was no steam to smell. "Cold soup again," Draco muttered under his breath, and he carefully picked the clay bowl up from the cell floor.

He was utterly starving. Never in his life could he remember being more hungry—or pissed off for that matter—than he was at that moment. He had been in this damned cell for days, without a word of what was going on within the ministry, or the outside world. Neville Longbottom could have killed Voldemort and he wouldn't know about it.

Draco ate his meal within minutes, and as always, was still hungry for more. He pushed the bowl towards the door, and the clatter echoed through the cell. He rested his head against the wall as he had been trying to listen through the walls, but there was obviously a silencing spell to prevent such an act, for all he could hear was silence.

There was nothing Draco could do but wait for the Wizengamot to make up there bloody minds for when their hearings were to be held.

It hit Draco suddenly that perhaps he was the last to undergo trial, and that was why it was taking so damn long. They must have tried Lucius and Carrow first, and that was why Draco had yet to be seen.

Had his father been sentenced to Azkaban? Had Carrow? Was he next? Would the judges even listen to his pleas that he had been forced into taking the mark in the first place? Would anyone defend him? Questions raced through his mind, more aggravating than ever for he had no power to find any answers to them. Suddenly a thought hit him….

"Dumbledore," Draco whispered aloud to himself. Would Dumbledore come to his defense? Dumbledore knew everything…he would know if Draco had had the mark at Hogwarts, and could help convince the jury that only recently had he become a Death Eater. Perhaps he could vouch for him; pain-in-the-ass or not, he had been a Prefect, an excellent student, and had even been selected as Head Boy! Surley Dumbledore could help him.

Now all he had to do was find a way to contact him. Suddenly, the door to his cell opened and the same man entered to retrieve his food bowl. Draco cleared his throat to speak.

"I need to speak to someone regarding my trial," he said before the man closed the door.

"Someone will see you in due time to discuss your trial—" the man began, but Draco interrupted him hastily.

"No I need to speak to someone, **now**."

* * *

_Death Eaters were everywhere…ministry officials, Aurors, and–and bodies were lying on the Earth's floor._

_Hermione's eyes began to frantically search for Harry, or any sign of the Weasleys, but she didn't recognize a soul. Her mind and heart were racing, and she stayed deathly still, transfixed on the scene of a night she had anticipated for the last seven years of her life._

Hermione stood rigid by the doorway as she peered over the Weasley's backyard; her jaw had dramatically dropped opened in mere astonishment.

They were everywhere…Death Eaters, as far as the eye could see.

"Hermione!"

Her head spun to the right and her erratic heart slowed a tic or two; it was Tonks.

"Tonks! Where is he! Where's Harry and the others!" Hermione shrieked as she stumbled outside towards the older witch. Tonks flung one last curse at a Death Eater who was quick at her heels, and successfully stunned him. She then ran to Hermione, glancing over her shoulder to make sure she wasn't being followed.

Tonks was out of breath when she reached her, and she pulled Hermione backwards towards the house to hide for a moment.

"It was an ambush," Tonks panted, and Hermione was stunned to see Tonks' lip quiver, "Arthur contacted us at the Ministry, and we were greeted with this when we all arrived," she said in hushed whispers.

"Where's Harry?"

Tonks grimaced as she held her side in anguish, "I don't know."

Hermione paled, "You haven't seen him?"

Tonks shook her head, but suddenly screamed for Hermione to run for she spotted a Death Eater hurtling their way.

Hermione already had her wand at the ready, "STUPEFY!"

The Death Eater collapsed, and Tonks only gave her a nod. "Come with me, lets find Harry and the others."

"They were playing Quidditch before I left, lets go there," Hermione said, and the two Apparated away.

When they landed, there was even more fighting occurring. Hermione spotted Ron immediately, who had Lupin, Fred, George, and a few other men at his side. She ran to them as fast as she could, carefully dodging spells left and right.

"Where's Harry!" Hermione asked Ron.

She didn't need an answer, for she saw Harry kneeling on the ground, crunched over in pain while clawing at his forehead. Ron and the others had used their bodies to barricade Harry from harm's way for he was in too much pain to even stand.

"Where's Ginny?"

Ron looked despondently at her, "I don't know, she wasn't with us when they came, she had gone inside before they ambushed us."

"I was just inside, and I stunned a Death Eater. I didn't see anyone, just…" Hermione trailed off.

"Just what?" Ron asked frantically.

"There were…broken dishes everywhere, and—blood. All over the place, there was blood."

Ron paled at the comment, but at that moment a killing curse zoomed right past their heads. Ron ducked and pulled Hermione with him so that they were kneeling by Harry.

"Harry! Harry can you hear me?"

Harry looked up at her wearily and she saw blood smeared on his forehead. His pupils were dilated, and he was covered in dirt. Hermione barley registered his voice, "Can't….breath…."

"He's here Hermione, V-Voldemort. He's here," Ron whispered. "This is it."

Hermione nodded her head and she heard the chants from the Death Eaters increase. It seemed that most of the Aurors and officials had made their way to them, and were now standing all around the three of them who were huddled on the ground. Death Eaters were advancing on them, and they could barely hear each other over the chaos.

Hermione had a knot raising in her throat…here they were, the three of them together at the final battle of the century. "Harry, I need you to listen to me," Hermione said shakily into his ear. "What can I do? What can _we_ do?"

"Make…it…stop."

"Make what stop?" Ron pressed.

"I think he means the pain," Hermione whispered, and she saw Harry nod his head. Hermione lifted her wand and racked her brain of every single charm she could that would help him. She performed them all…heeling, cheering, strengthening, and even a few charms to boost his adrenaline. She knew it was a lot of magic to intake, so they waited a few moments until they could hear that Harry seemed to be breathing more easily.

Harry slowly raised his head. "Thanks Hermione," he whispered. His eyes locked with hers and she saw a determined gleam in them. Harry leaned on his two best friends as they carefully helped him stand.

**—****WHAM—**

Suddenly, every single living thing halted in place. Every Death Eater and Auror was frozen solid, unable to move, blink, speak, or hear.

Voldemort slowly walked through the frozen images so that he was only meters away from his nemesis. "Hello, Harry. We meet again," was all he whispered before he drew out his wand, and vaguely nodded his head.

Voldemort had performed a curse to immobilize everything except himself and Harry Potter.

However…something went wrong. Hermione knew the feeling of being frozen, and the cold tingly feeling hadn't overcome her body. She had heard Voldemort's slithery comment, and she wiggled her big toe inside her shoe to see if she really was immobilized.

"_I can move it,"_ she thought frantically.

She and Ron had been holding onto Harry…Voldemort's spell hadn't frozen them.

Hermione didn't blink and hoped to Merlin that Ron wouldn't give away that his spell had been unsuccessful. She felt Harry step away from their hands and she waited for a moment so that she could whisper to Ron to stay absolutely still.

Unfortunately, she waited too long. Harry began to talk, and Ron suddenly lunged from his spot and vainly threw the killing curse at Voldemort.

Voldemort threw the curse off with ease, and laughed a hollow laugh. He didn't wait two seconds before screaming, "CRUCIO!" right at Ron.

Ron thrashed on the ground, making the dirt stir. It was eerily quiet, and the silence around them seemed to amplify his cries a hundred times over.

Hermione's eyes were transfixed on him, unable to look away and suddenly she couldn't take the blood-curling screams any longer. Harry screamed and started towards Ron, but Hermione was already hurtling towards Voldemort with her wand out, yelling some random curse. Nothing happened, for Voldemort's other hand was raised, and she was stopped in her tracks as if being pushed away from him like they were two positively charged magnets. Her feet left the ground, and she suddenly felt a burning sensation throughout her entire body.

Screams erupted from her throat to mix with Ron's cries, and that's when she heard the two words explode from Harry's mouth.

"**AVADA KEDAVRA!"**

Hermione was dropped roughly to the ground beside Ron, who was scarcely breathing.

Her eyes were barely opened and she saw Voldemort's inhuman body being hit by the jet of green from Harry's wand. Suddenly, a loud hissing, snakelike sound was emitted from Voldemort.

Hermione would not have believed the next few events if she hadn't witnessed it with her own two eyes.

Instead of falling dead to the ground, Voldemort's body dissolved into a green vapor. It then hovered towards Harry. Harry backed away from it, and watched in horror as the vapor seemed to crawl inside of his wand.

Harry shrieked and dropped his wand in an instant as it was scalding hot. The wood had turned a blood red color, and began to wildly flip about on the ground. Suddenly, it burst into flames, and then it exploded into thin air.

Hermione ducked from the explosion, throwing her arms protectively around Ron for he was now unconscious. She had tears streaming down her face, and she could make out Harry a few feet in front of her, crawling towards her and Ron.

As soon as the explosion ended, a black mist was left floating midair.

Harry and Hermione watched as after the explosion, the field of Death Eaters and Aurors came back to life. They all stopped in their tracks, confused at to what had just happened.

In a moment, the black mist no longer hovered in mid air; it sped away, and was so fast Hermione had to blink to make sure her eyes weren't playing tricks on her. The mist immediately raced to every Death Eater, and swarmed their bodies until they fell down dead. Harry, Hermione, and every Auror and official watched with transfixed eyes as the black mist sucked the life out of every black figure that was present.

Harry slumped against Hermione with a sigh and tears in his eyes. He removed his glasses to wipe his eyes as he whispered, "Hermione?"

"Yes?" she breathed.

"Is it over?"

"Yes Harry, you did it, it's finally over."

"Oi, Hermione! Harry!"

Hermione turned and saw Fred and George running their way. They fell to the ground next to them, and immediately began to ask what had just happened. Then Fred caught sight of his youngest brother, "What's wrong with him?" he asked, and he began to shake Ron on the shoulder.

Tears were running down Hermione's face, "Voldemort hit him with the Cruciatus curse," she sniffed. "He fell unconscious a few minutes ago."

"Ron! Ron, wake up!" George said as he tried to shake him awake.

"Stop, that won't work," Hermione cried, "we need to get him help, we need—"

Hermione was cut off when she heard Harry's scream. She looked to him and saw that the black mist was now swarming his body, and that he was again, clutching his scar. Fred and George had their wands out, but Hermione pushed them away, afraid they would hurt Harry. Hermione began to swat at the mist with her fists, but it wasn't doing anything. She had no idea what to do, and she began screaming when Harry's body fell limply next to her.

"**GET HELP NOW!"** Hermione shrieked at Fred and George, and they immediately began sending distress signals into the sky.

People began appearing beside them within moments. Hermione was hunched over Harry and Ron, crying and panting for air. "Help them! Someone, please help them!" She suddenly felt someone grasp her arms and lift her to stand.

She looked up into Lupin's face, "Please Lupin, you have to help them," she cried frantically. A few women and men were already gathered around the two boys.

"What happened to them?" Lupin asked, but Hermione wasn't listening, only watching the witches and wizards work on her best friends.

"You need to tell us what happened to them," a woman shouted to Hermione.

"Ron—Ron was hit with the Cruciatus curse," Hermione said, breaking away from Lupin's grasp and kneeling down next to them. "And Harry, the mist got him; I don't know what it did to him."

"Alice, he isn't breathing," a man whispered to the woman Hermione had been talking to. The man had his fingers on Harry's neck, searching for a pulse.

"What?" Hermione cried, "No, he was a moment ago!"

"We need to get him to St. Mungos," the man said sternly, "now!"

"Him too," Alice said as she pointed to Ron, and the two of them grasped the boys and Apparated away.

Tonks carefully lifted Hermione from the ground to take her away. "Hermione, I need you to calm down. Don't worry about Harry and Ron; they're being transported to the hospital. Hermione, you need to tell us what the hell just happened."

Hermione began to hyperventilate, and couldn't even get two coherent words to escape her mouth. She only shook her head and began crying again. "This isn't how it's supposed to be!" she bellowed. "None of us were supposed to get hurt!"

Hermione's eyes lit up, "Where's Ginny? We have to find Ginny!"

Fred and George looked at each other, "We'll go look for her Hermione. You need to stay with Tonks, alright?"

Hermione nodded, "Okay," she replied weakly.

"Hermione?" Tonks asked gently, "Can you tell us what happened?"

Hermione glanced back to Tonks who was now joined by Lupin and a few others.

She nodded, "Voldemort stunned all of you, even all of his followers. He stunned everyone—well, he meant to stun everyone except Harry and himself."

"What do you mean he meant to?"

"Ron and I weren't stunned. We had just helped Harry to stand up, and I guess…I guess since we were holding onto him the spell didn't affect us."

"So all of us were stunned, what happened next?" Lupin pressed.

"Well I realized that I could move, which meant that Ron probably could too. Harry had stepped away from us, and I was about to whisper to tell Ron to keep still but he bolted towards Voldemort and tried to kill him."

"That didn't work," Lupin finished for her.

"No, Voldemort threw the spell off and hit him with a curse," she paused, "and then I went to help him but he stopped me too, and then while Voldemort was distracted by us, Harry…Harry killed him."

More and more people had gathered around to listen to her account. "What happened then?" Tonks asked.

Hermione stopped to think for a moment, replaying the scene for herself to get the events straight. "Voldemort—he didn't fall over dead when he got hit, he…turned into a green vapor or something. Then it floated over to Harry and it went inside of his wand," Hermione said, shivering when she remembered the look on Harry's face.

"Harry dropped his wand, the wand began to flip around on the ground… and then it burst into flames and then exploded," she finished. People had broken out into whispers of awe, and all at once they began to ask her more and more questions. Tonks and Lupin had to shush everyone so that she could finish.

"After the explosion, all of you and the Death Eaters became conscious again. The black mist appeared as a result of the explosion. I thought at first it was just debris from the fire, but then, as you all saw, it went to every Death Eater and killed them."

"And Harry Potter," someone said loudly.

Hermione's tears started up again when she remembered that it had attacked Harry too.

"Why do you think it went after Harry and not any of us?"

Hermione thought for a moment and she wiped away her tears. "I think…that the mist went after the Death Eaters because they were all branded by Voldemort. Unfortunately, Harry was also…marked," she whispered the last word, and then sobs overtook her. Tonks hugged her and tried to calm her down, but Hermione began wailing loudly. Harry couldn't be dead…she couldn't handle it if he were gone.

She held onto Tonks as she watched the Aurors and officials spread out and help the wounded. They began to levitate the dead in two piles: Aurors and officials, and Death Eaters.

"Hermione," Fred said, suddenly appearing by her side. She broke her eyes away from the bodies, and was met with Fred's saddened face.

"What happened?"

"Ginny's pretty battered, but she was conscious. George uhh…went with her to St. Mungo's."

"That's good," she whispered. "But something tells me that's not what's upsetting you."

Fred blinked back his tears and took in a long breath, "It's my mum," he said shakily, "she's been killed."

Hermione's breath hitched, "What?"

"We found her in the kitchen, she…she was hit with a killing curse."

Hermione's stomach dropped and fresh tears began to spill from her eyes. She went to Fred and collapsed in his arms. "No! No, no, no, no," she whispered quietly.

Tonks and Lupin glanced at each other and then went over to the teenagers. "Would you like for us to come with you to the hospital?"

Hermione nodded, but Fred shook his head, "Would one of you please find my father?"

Lupin nodded at Fred, "I'll find him and we'll meet you all there," he said, and he turned and walked away.

"Tonks," Fred said, "Would you take Hermione? I need to contact Bill and Charlie."

"Of course, come on Hermione."

Hermione gave Fred one last tight hug, then walked over to Tonks. She watched wearily as Fred stiffened his shoulders and Apparated away.


	9. A Crossed Bone and a Wand

**A Crossed Bone and a Wand**

Draco lay awake in his cold cell, drumming his fingers lazily against his stomach which gave an occasional gurgle of hunger. His back was beginning to get sore from laying on it for so long, so with a heavy sigh he turned onto his side. He stared now at the tiny sliver of light that escaped from the bottom of the cell door, and listened for any sound of movement.

Today had been a frustrating day; there was still no word on how much longer he'd have to wait for his trial. Furthermore, when he's asked about getting Dumbledore's help, the men had smiled smugly, snickered, and then slammed the door in his face.

Draco had screamed out is frustration, and slammed his fist into the wall. Dumbledore had been the perfect solution to save him from going to Azkaban, and now he couldn't even get in contact with him.

What was he to do? Plead with the judges that he'd been forced to take the mark? Would they buy it? Or would they simply assume him guilty and send him on his way?

Draco groaned out loud in mere aggravation. His head had been hurting for days with all that had been on his mind. He brought his hands to his head and began to massage his temples ever so slightly. Not like this would help much, but it was enough of a distraction to forget about the pain.

Suddenly, Draco heard voices booming in the room outside.

"Ross, what the hell is going on?" Draco heard one man shout over the voices.

"We don't know what it is…"

"What do you mean! Wait…it's moving! What the hell are you just standing around for, get rid of it!"

"_Deletrius!"_ Ross shouted, "_Evanesco! DELETRIUS!_ Sir…it isn't working!"

"Try harder!"

"_EVANESCO_!"

"Wait…it…it's going into his cell—"

"AHHHHHH!" a new voice bellowed, and then it abruptly fell silent.

Draco's head shot up off the ground as he recognized the new voice to be Amycus.

He scrambled to the door to press his ear against the cold steel, and he could again hear the sound of people shouting. "What the hell is going on out there?" Draco shouted.

Draco heard the sound of a heavy cell door being opened, and he listened intently as one man spoke; "I'm not getting a pulse…sir, I—I think he's dead! Carrow, he's dead! It killed him!"

Draco's heart beat tripled…_What_ had killed him? "Hey, what's going on out there!" Draco shouted again, hammering on the door. He listened with stained ears now, unable to recognize half the spells these men were performing.

"There! We got some of it!"

"Yes, but not all of it! Come on, again Ross! It's headed towards Malfoy's cell! They may be heartless arses but I'd rather see them rot in Azkaban! Get rid of that fucking mist now!"

"Mist?" Draco pondered aloud. He'd never heard of a lethal mist, and he wasn't exactly eager to see if this were true so he stood and leapt to the opposite end of his cell. He waited there for moments, still straining to hear the men.

"It went under his door!"

Draco looked down…there was nothing there.

He heard shouts now, and his stomach dropped as he recognized the voice as his father.

"There, we got more of it!"

"_Complexo!" _Ross shouted again and again.

Spells were still being bellowed, but Draco could no longer hear his father's voice.

"It's moving towards Draco's cell now—_Complexo_!"

"Good work, you've got almost all of it now—"

Just as the man said those words, Draco saw black mist creep underneath his door. Draco screamed, for whatever this mist was, it had killed Carrow and possibly his father. His back was pressed against the far side of his cell, and he jumped when his door was flung opened. His eyes locked with the other blonde man whom Draco assumed was Ross, and he again began to shout _"Complexo!"_

A towering glass urn quickly enveloped most of the black mist, but not all of it. A small amount regrouped and then soared towards Draco.

"Shit," Draco cursed, and he dove away from the mist on instinct. He could vaguely hear the men shouting spells behind him, but before he could regain his balance and stand, the mist had floated over to his body.

"**AHHHHHH!" **Draco roared, watching the mist seep into his left forearm. It was a sensation completely foreign to his body. He literally felt his blood boil and rush to his left arm. Every nerve ending began to sting and itch, and the last thing Draco remembered was that his body was so hot that he began to spasm violently. . . .

* * *

"COMPLEXO!"

"Is it…"

"Yes. It's all captured," Ross sighed, completely out of breath.

Ross and his supervisor stared around the room, and watched dozens of glass urns turn opaque so that the black swirling mist was concealed.

"Contact St. Mungo's, now!"

"I'm on it," Ross replied.

* * *

Hermione stared at her shoelaces in a deep trance. She shifted her crossed legs, and the uncomfortable red waiting-chair gave a squeak that somewhat pulled her out of her stupor.

She rubbed her eyes and glanced around the waiting room; only an elderly woman accompanied her, and the two exchanged grim smiles simply out of politeness.

"Hermione?"

She looked up to find Tonks standing before her with a cup of tea. "Would you like a drink?"

Hermione wasn't in the mood for tea, but she took the mug nonetheless. "Thanks," she whispered. She had been sitting in the waiting room for only fifteen minutes, but already it felt like hours. The Healers had chased them out of the room, and when Hermione wouldn't leave the doorway they had ushered her to the fifth floor waiting area.

A tear rolled down Hermione's cheek. "They didn't let me stay…Harry could be dead, and they pushed me away," Hermione's voice was shaking, and she turned her head sharply to the older witch; "Please, come with me to talk to the Healers, they've got to let me in! I can't just sit out here and do nothing!"

"Hermione there isn't anything you can do to help them right now—"

"No!" Hermione shouted, her adrenaline surging by the second. "For seven years I have been by Harry's side, knowing in the back of my mind that this day would come. And now when this day might be his last, they pull me _away_ from his side!" she said harshly through tears. Hermione was standing now, pacing.

"You're right Hermione, you have been by his side from day one, and you're still by his side now. Listen," Tonks said softly, grasping Hermione's hands so that she would stop pacing, "the Healers are going to do everything in their power to save him. And the same goes for Ron and Ginny, they are all being helped. The best thing you can do for them is to take care of yourself so that you can be by their sides while they recover," she said, though Hermione's nerves cringed from her optimism. "You have to remain strong for them Hermione, you have to have faith that Harry, Ron, and Ginny are going to be alright."

Tonks' speech only made Hermione feel more numb. The idea that she couldn't protect her friends or help them at the moment was tearing up her reserve. Even if she couldn't help them, she needed to at least be able to see them. It was a concept that was completely foreign to her, and she didn't even want to try and explain it to Tonks.

Hermione sighed and pulled her hands away from Tonks. She sniffed and mutely handed her mug of tea back to Tonks before she mumbled, "I'm going to the loo."

"Alright," Tonks replied.

Hermione rounded the corner but made a beeline for the lift instead. She exhaled in relief when no one else was using it, and she punched 'Spell Damage: Fourth Floor' a couple of times. When she reached the floor, she raced to the hall where her friends were and thanked Merlin that there weren't any Healers in the hallway.

She went to Harry's door first, but she couldn't see anything through the window. The Healers put up a shield that blocked her view, and she gave a frustrated sigh and began to chew on her lip.

Hermione spun around to Ron's room which was across the hall. Her eyes lit up when she saw Arthur Weasley sitting in a chair next to Ron's bed. Hermione gave a small knock to get Arthur's attention, and when he glanced up he immediately went to let her in.

Hermione had tears in her eyes as she let Arthur give her a small hug.

"I'm glad you're alright," he said softly.

"How is Ron?"

"He's okay," Arthur said, and she could hear the relief in his voice, "the Healers said he'll pull through. Only," he trailed off for a moment, "he hasn't woken up yet. And until he does, we aren't sure if there is any…damage. All we can do is wait."

"And Ginny? How is she?"

"She's doing well, her brothers are with her right now," he said as he nodded off in the direction of his daughter's room.

"And Harry? What about Harry?"

Arthur turned around, and Hermione could almost see the tension slide over his skin, "They haven't told us anything. I haven't seen the team that went in there for almost half an hour now," he said, turning back to see her.

Hermione walked over to Ron's bed and sat on the side of it, while resting a hand on top of his. She leaned down and gave him a soft kiss on the forehead, and then turned back to Arthur, her head hung low.

When she looked up at him, there were tears in her eyes. "I'm so sorry about Molly," she whispered. A tear ran down her cheek, and she wasn't surprised to find Mr. Weasley's face twitch, willing himself not to cry.

He cleared his throat and suggested for Hermione to go and see Ginny. Hermione got the hint; he needed to be alone.

When she stepped out into the hallway, she had to take a moment to lean against the wall and cry. She shook harder when she realized how many times she had cried in the past few months. Her parents' murder and Molly's murder, Voldemort's rein, her abduction, the final battle, and all three of her friends being wounded while one hung in for life. It was enough to fill her heart with such sadness that for a moment she completely forgot about one of her biggest heartaches….

"Draco," she whispered. Her fingertips flew up to touch her lips…his name hadn't actually escaped her mouth in quite some time. For a moment, she closed her eyes and pictured his face, and wished that he were here to help her now. He had been by her side through everything, helping her cope with the loss of her parents, and the impending threat of Voldemort…and then one day he was stolen away from her by a merciless man. The thought of that day hit her, and like she had done one hundred times before, she played out what had happened that rainy afternoon.

It only made her cry harder, and she slid to the floor when her knees could no longer hold up her body.

"Hermione," she heard a deep voice say.

When she looked up she saw George standing above her. "Give me your hand," he commanded. Hermione let George lift her up, and then she let him guide her into a room.

As soon as Hermione's teary eyes landed on Ginny, she ran to the hospital bed and threw her arms around the red head's little body.

Ginny didn't say anything, only hugged Hermione tightly.

"You're okay," Hermione whispered into her ear, "thank Merlin you're okay!"

Ginny pulled away, "I'm fine. A little sore, but the Healers fixed me right up."

Hermione turned to the boys, "And all of you, I'm so glad all of you are alright."

"Did you see Ron or Harry? How are they?" Ginny pressed.

"Ron's okay, your dad's with him right now. He…he hasn't woken yet, so they aren't sure if he's completely healed."

"And Harry?"

Hermione stretched her lips into a shaky smile, and shook her head back and forth. "We don't know, they haven't told us anything—"

"You don't even know if he's alive?" Ginny gasped.

Hermione shook her head again.

Ginny was crying now, a sight Hermione had only seen a few times before. "Hermione, what happened out there?"

Hermione looked over to the boys, and they all awaited her response. She sat down on Ginny's bed and replayed the whole evening.

She was interrupted halfway through when a Healer came in to check on Ginny. He had sternly told Hermione to leave for only family was permitted to visit the patients, but all four boys rounded on him and told him that Hermione was most definitely part of their family.

The Healer couldn't argue, and left after giving Ginny a few potions to stomach.

"I can't believe it's over," Ginny whispered.

Silence hung for a few minutes; all six of them were lost in their thoughts.

"Your mum was an extraordinary woman," Hermione said finally.

All five Weasley's glanced at her.

"You were all lucky to have been raised in such a loving home with such a loving mother. She will be truly missed."

They all sat there for a few more minutes, until Bill and Charlie left to join Arthur and their youngest brother.

"We should go and see how Harry is," Ginny said suddenly, "I don't care if I have to brake down his door the muggle way, I need to know how he's doing."

"I'll go and see if I can arrange that for you," Fred said, and George followed him out of the room.

"God I hope he's alright," Hermione whispered.

"Hermione," Ginny said a bit hesitantly.

"Yes?"

"The mist you were talking about…or I guess, technically speaking, Voldemort's spirit per-say; it went after every Death Eater on the field?"

"Yes, and then Harry. It also got to Harry."

"And did you see it leave Harry?"

Hermione opened her mouth to reply, but she caught herself. "Uhh, I don't remember. I was too distraught; Harry was dying in my arms!"

"This mist, you think it went after everyone who was branded by Voldemort, Harry included. But what about the ones who weren't on the field? What about Malfoy?"

Hermione's eyes raced back and forth as Ginny's thought caused her mind to race.

"Ginny, Hermione," Fred and George said hurriedly, "the Healers said you can come into Harry's room now."

Hermione and Ginny quickly got up from the bed and made for the doorway. A Healer was waiting outside Harry's door, but the man stopped Hermione.

"I'm sorry, but you'll need to change into some protective robes," he said. "It isn't safe for Mr. Potter to be around anything that might make him even more sick—"

"So he's okay? He's alive?" Ginny asked.

The man continued, "But you are fine to enter Ms. Weasley as you are already in one of our hospital robes."

"Wait, where do I get these protective robes?" Hermione asked impatiently.

"Go down the hall, it's the last room on the right hand side. There are green robes that are disinfected. Change into those after you have removed your clothing and placed it in a sanitary bag."

"Do you want me to wait for you?" Ginny asked.

"No, you go ahead, I'll try and hurry," Hermione said from over her shoulder as she was already heading down the long hallway.

"We'll be with dad," Fred said to Ginny, and Hermione watched as Ginny put her hands together in a praying motion and entered his room slowly.

Hermione ran the rest of the way and was surprised to find other people in the room with her. There were two men to her immediate left, and the same elderly woman that she had seen earlier in the waiting room.

She went to the shelf that marked the small lime green robes, and for a second she admired the St. Mungo's symbol; an embroidered crossed bone and wand. She stepped behind a curtain and quickly began to change.

She was still thinking about what Ginny had said…would the mist have gone after _every_ Death Eater? Was Draco okay? Or had it killed him as well? Her thoughts were interrupted by two men arguing.

"Hey Ross, would you put a move on it?"

"I'm trying, but these don't fit me—"

"C'mon! Who knows if Lucius is gonna last much longer, you know he wasn't breathing when they showed up."

Hermione's breath hitched.

"I need a bigger size—"

"Ross! Just suck it in! Draco will probably be dead by the time you find your perfect size, now lets go!"

Hermione's stomach lurked.

"Just one size bigger—"

"Fine, I'm going to Lucius' room, because he'll probably die first. You take Draco's room."

"Okay fine!"

The door slammed shut, and Hermione's lip trembled.

If those two men were talking about Lucius and Draco Malfoy…that meant that they were here in St. Mungo's.


	10. Nurse Hermione Granger

**Nurse Hermione Granger**

Hermione's shaking hands reached for the silver door handle that lead to the outside hall. She stepped silently out of the changing rooms, and stood still for a moment to watch the two men she had just overheard heading into two separate rooms directly beside her.

She then glanced down the hall towards Harry's room, and she suddenly felt an unbearable pull at her heart.

Hermione clenched her teeth fiercely, overwhelmed with the desire to run into Draco's room…yet she couldn't possibly do this when her best friend could be dying at the very same moment.

She didn't allow the debate in her head to continue any further, and before she knew it her legs began to carry her down the hall to Harry's room. She stared at her shoes as she walked by Draco's room, for if she caught a glimpse of him, she was afraid she would not be able to continue down the hall.

'_As soon as I know how Harry is, I'll go back to see Draco…'_ she thought to herself, guilt rising in her as she ignored Draco's presence. She knew why he and his father were here; it was the black mist. What else would have brought them all to St. Mungo's the very same day?

A minute later, Hermione stood at Harry's door. The Healer was waiting for her there, and he performed an additional cleaning spell on her before she entered. With a flick of his wrist a green hat covered her head, and a mask appeared over her mouth so that only her eyes were visible from beneath her green get-up.

She couldn't help but glance back down the hall towards Draco's room once more, but the Healer was starting to sigh with irritation at her slow pace.

"Sorry," she muttered as he closed the door solidly behind them.

When Hermione looked up she was met with a shocking sight; Harry was inside of a gigantic clear tube that was jetting out from a wall, and his unconscious body was floating and rotating in circles within the tube. Hermione also noted that the man and woman who had brought Harry to St. Mungo's were standing nearby talking to one of the Healers. The Healer must have seen the shocked look on her face, for he immediately went to her side.

"Don't worry, it isn't as scary as it looks," he said to her.

"What—what is it?"

"Well, Muggles have something of the sort, they call it a hyperbaric chamber," he explained. "This essentially does the same thing. We have to cleanse his body of this black mist the Mediwizards keep speaking of. The problem is we have never been faced with anything like this before, and we were unsure of which spells to use to cure him," he continued as he guided her closer to Harry. "It would exhaust him if we were to perform every spell we know considering we don't know what the mist did to him, so we have concluded that this is the best method for treatment."

Hermione's head was spinning, but she hung on to every word he said to her. She liked the sound of his voice…he seemed optimistic in his explanation.

She glanced over at Ginny who was sitting in a chair near to Harry. Her eyes were damp, and she looked even more pale than usual. "How long will he have to stay in this…contraption?" Hermione asked.

He shrugged, "We have no way of knowing. We will let you both know when he can be taken out," he said. "My name is Luke by the way," he said as he extended his hand.

Hermione shook his hand, and gave him a weak smile. "I'm Hermione," she replied.

"Well, Hermione, if there is anything I can do for you or your friend, please don't hesitate to call me. The nurse," he motioned to a woman who was busy at a nearby counter, "can contact me and I can Apparate here as quickly as possible if anything occurs."

"Thank you," she replied softly as she watched him leave the room.

Hermione slowly walked over to Ginny and placed a calm hand upon her shoulder. "Hey, Harry," she whispered as she gazed at her best friend through the tube.

Ginny sniffed, and her hand suddenly flew up to grasp Hermione's.

"He looks…" Ginny paused, "peaceful."

Hermione cocked her head a bit, "Yea he does—" she began, but Ginny cut her off.

"That's not a good thing," she snapped.

Hermione was confused. "Ginny," she scoffed, "of course it's a good thing. It means he isn't in pain."

"No, it means that he's content to just…stay this way forever!"

"Ginny, that's absurd—"

"Don't pretend like you haven't heard of people living in a coma for their entire life," Ginny said in a shaky voice.

Ginny sat up on the edge of her seat and placed both hands onto the clear tube, "Don't you dare give up Harry," she whispered harshly. "Don't you leave me," she breathed a moment later.

Hermione could almost hear the tears in Ginny's voice, and she put her hands on her shoulders to try and calm her down.

Hermione couldn't help but feel relieved at the news that Harry wasn't dead, but undergoing recovery. It seemed like the Healers here were doing everything in their power to heal him, which gave Hermione an enormous sense of hope.

"Ginny," Hermione whispered, "I believe that the Healers will cure him…I believe that he's going to be alright."

"He has to be," Ginny replied impassively without missing a beat, "he's Harry Potter."

An hour later, Hermione quietly left Harry's room. She needed to go to the loo, and frankly, she couldn't stand to see Harry so vulnerable for a moment longer.

Once she was out in the hall, her heart sped up as she realized the loo was near Draco's end of the hall.

Hermione reached behind her head to untie the face mask that the Healer had put over her mouth, but the knot was impossibly tight. She concentrated on undoing it when she accidentally crashed into a cart in the hallway.

Bandages, wraps, tape, thermometers, glasses, potion bottles, potion mixers and more spilled all over the floor, and the sound reverberated through the empty hall. Hermione cringed and immediately fell to the floor to start picking it up, but a cranky nurse was already scurrying down the hall towards her.

"What pray tell is going on?"

"I'm so sorry—"

"You should have finished putting this in room 418 an hour ago!"

"But—"

"No Rose, I don't want to hear any excuses!" she yelled and she started back down the hall.

Hermione was startled, and she scrambled to her feet to call after her; "Excuse me, miss? I'm afraid you're mistaken, my name isn't Ro—"

The nurse spun on her heel, "Did you not understand me the first time? Put the supplies in room 418 now, or you can kiss your job goodbye!" she yelled, and then she disappeared.

Hermione's hands fell limply to her side. Why would this woman mistake her for a nurse? It was then that she realized that while some guests had to wear the same green robes that the Healers and nurses did, she hadn't seen anyone in the changing room with a hat or a face mask. The nurse probably only saw Hermione's curly brown hair, and assumed it was…Rose.

Hermione bent down and started placing the supplies back on the cart, but decided against putting the supplies away into the room. She wasn't Rose, and besides, she didn't even know where it all went.

She started back down the hall, but just out of curiosity, she looked for room 418. When she found the room, it was near the changing rooms that she had been in earlier…could this be Draco or Lucius' room? She couldn't see in, but there was a clipboard hanging on the door with patient information.

Unable to help herself, she scanned the parchment and her heart skipped a beat when she saw **Draco Malfoy **boldly printed at the top.

She chewed on her bottom lip as a shiver ran throughout her body. She wanted to see him, so desperately in fact, that she sped back down the hall way and began to pull the supply cart with her.

She would slip in and put the supplies in the room as the nurse instructed. Meanwhile, she would check on Draco's condition. As Hermione pulled the cart to a stop, she reached for the door handle, but yelped as it was already opening.

"Oh," a man said. Hermione recognized him as the man she had seen in the dressing room. "I was just going to the loo," he said, and he held the door for her as she pulled the supply cart into the room.

Hermione's back was to Draco's bed, and for a moment she fully regretted coming into his room. Would he be awake? Would he be in the same contraption as Harry? Would he recognize her?

She slowly turned and let her eyes rise to the bed, holding her breath all the while….

His eyes were opened, and he was sitting up, staring out the window.

Hermione slowly exhaled, and hoped to Merlin that he couldn't hear how loud her heart was pounding. Her whole body was shaking as she pulled the cart further into the room.

'_Now, where does this all go?'_ she thought, trying to distract herself from her nervousness. The shelves were covered with acronyms and none of it made any sense to her. Her hands were beginning to sweat, so she opted for unloading the cart. At least it made her _look_ like she knew what she was doing—

"I need water," Draco said suddenly.

Hermione's head shot up at the sound of his voice. "Okay," she replied, and looked around for a cup. Oh no—where were the cups!

"No," he said louder. "The water is over here."

She turned and saw a glass of water by his bedside. Her eyebrows scrunched, unsure of what he wanted her to do. "Okay…do you want fresh water?"

Draco suddenly started yanking his hands back and forth and Hermione understood; his hands were magically bound to the bed. Now, for the first time since that day in Diagon Alley, Hermione's eyes rose and connected with Draco's. She was frozen, and she felt a shiver rundown her spine as if a cold, winter's breeze had just swept through the hospital room. Only when he looked away, could Hermione's feet actually begin to move.

She made her way to the bed, suddenly realizing exactly what she had to do; he wanted a drink of water. Her hands were shaking, and she was afraid that she was going to spill it all over him, so she spoke to try and ease her own tension.

"I guess they don't trust you much," she said softly, motioning to his bindings.

"Well, that is what we prisoners get," he drawled, and she felt his eyes stare her down.

Hermione worked twice as hard not to look at him again, for she was afraid that he might recognize her. Finally, after a minute of hesitation, she reached for the glass and slowly lifted it to his lips.

As he drank, she could not tear her eyes away from his mouth. She unconsciously licked her lips, and then blushed when she realized what she had just implied. Good thing she still had a mask on, for he probably couldn't see the growing redness in her cheeks. He sipped slowly, and she swallowed hard before she decided to finally glance up.

She started when she saw that he was staring at her, and she quickly found herself getting lost in his eyes like she used to. Suddenly, he pulled away from the glass, and she watched him lick his lips. Suddenly, a questioning look took over his face.

"Do I know you?" he asked lowly.

Draco opened his eyes to find a light blinding him.

"Blimey! Get that sodding light out of my face!"

A man who had been leaning over him stood up straighter; "Mr. Malfoy, do you know where you are?"

Draco blinked a few times, trying to remember what had happened to him. "Looks like I'm in a hospital," he replied.

"You're in St. Mungo's, and you got very lucky."

Draco tried to rub his eyes, but groaned out loud when he realized that his hands were both bound to the bed. "What the bloody hell is this about?" he yelled, yanking on the invisible chains.

The Healer waited for his outburst to end, and then explained that Mr. Ross had insisted that he remained bound to the bed.

"Bullocks," Draco muttered.

"Mr. Malfoy, can you tell me exactly what happened to you?"

Draco sighed, and decided he didn't have the energy to bicker with the Healer. "Some sort of mist killed Carrow, and I heard the men outside trying to stop it because they said they'd rather see my father and I rot in Azkaban than be killed by it. I heard them trying to retain it, but it got my father, and then I suppose some of it got to me as well."

"Alright," the Healer mumbled as his quill scratched on a sheet of parchment, "and can you tell me if you have any pain now?"

"I'm sore," he said, "particularly my wrists!" he shook the bed again for emphasis.

"Like I said before, you have been very lucky. Unfortunately," he said and paused for a moment as he signed the parchment and gave it to the nurse, "your father wasn't as lucky."

Draco's expression didn't change. "And?" he drawled in a seemingly bored tone.

"And," the Healer continued, "he is comatose. The mist only caused you to become unconscious, but it created much more serious problems for your father."

"Will he ever wake up?" Draco asked.

The Healer sighed, "I regret to say that it is very unlikely."

Draco was silent. He wasn't sure if he was saddened…or relieved.

"We'll need to keep you here overnight just in case something in your health changes, but otherwise you should be fine," the Healer said after a long stretch, and then he pocketed his quill and swiftly left the room.

Draco sighed and tried to turn over, but was reminded of his hand restrictions. He grinded his teeth together in aggravation, but knew that it was no use. Suddenly he heard a crack of thunder overhead, and then the sound of rain.

It was then that Draco first noticed Ross standing by the window in his room. The two made eye contact, but remained still and silent.

The next hour passed uneventfully. Draco was unable to go to sleep, and was only entertained by watching the rain hit his window. A large male nurse came and went, giving him wretched potions to swallow, yet he wasn't decent enough to give Draco a sip of water. There was a cup sitting on his bedside table, yet Draco still couldn't move his hands to reach it. He could ask Ross to hand it to him, but he was betting himself a million galleons that the man would not nix the binding spell, nor hold the cup for him to drink.

Suddenly, Ross moved for the first time and strode to the door.

Draco didn't watch him leave, but a small female yelp made his head shoot towards the door.

"Oh, I was just going to the loo," Ross said, and Draco watched as he held a door open for a nurse to push in a cart piled high with supplies.

Draco turned and looked back to the window. He would just ask her if she would give him water, and hopefully she wouldn't be a bitch like the rest of the nurses in the damned hospital.

"I need water," he said impetuously.

"Okay," she said, and he watched her look around the room with her back to him. She looked really nervous to him, and he detected a slight waiver in her voice.

"No, the water is over here," he said, growing impatient.

She turned to face him for the first time, "Okay…do you want fresh water?"

Draco was embarrassed about the situation, so he didn't answer. Instead, he tugged with force on his hand restraints, hoping that she'd take a hint.

He looked up to make sure she understood, and was hit with a bizarre feeling when their eyes met. He was equally surprised when he felt a small shiver run over his body. The sensation shook him, and he immediately looked away towards the window. Those eyes…they seemed very familiar.

"I guess they don't trust you much," she said, breaking his train of thought.

That voice…it was equally familiar. He knew this girl, he was sure of it. What girl did her know that worked at St. Mungo's? He stared at her, determined to find out where he knew her from, and then he replied, "Well, that is what we prisoners get."

She didn't respond, only picked up the glass and put it to his lips. While he was savoring his drink, he stared into her brown eyes…and suddenly he pulled away. He just had to ask her…"Do I know you?"

Her eyes grew wide, like she had just seen a ghost. She began to recoil, but was startled when the door to the room opened. Ross was back from the loo, and the Healer was following behind him.

"How are you feeling, Draco?" the Healer asked. "My nurse tells me that you've taken your entire round of potions, and—" he froze.

Draco watched the Healer walk towards the girl nurse. He put his hand on her shoulder and walked around her so that he could see her face.

"Hermione? Is that you?" the Healer asked her.

Draco wasn't sure he heard that correctly…did the Healer just call his nurse Hermione? He looked at her again, and was surprised to find her eyes glued to his…her big, brown eyes. His mouth dropped opened, "Granger? Is that you?"


	11. Hermione's Epiphany

**Hermione's Epiphany**

Hermione's stomach felt like it was falling out of her body…it was Luke! The same Healer that had just been helping Harry was standing in front of her. Not only had he recognized her, he had remembered her bloody name and had now exposed her identity to an unsuspecting Draco.

"Well?" Luke said, his voice growing louder, "What are you doing in my patient's room? You have no right to be in here—"

"Please, let me explain," she interrupted him. "I—I…" she trailed off. Suddenly, her brain went blank. She didn't know what to say, and her mouth went dry and her palms started to get sweaty from nerves. Plus the fact that she had been caught by Draco…what was he going to think? Would he think that she was some sort of stalker? Her face grew hot with each passing moment, and she could feel Draco's eyes watching her every move.

"That's enough," Luke said, and then he motioned for the door, "you need to leave—"

"Wait," Draco cut in. "I know her, she's…an old friend of mine."

Hermione did a double take and her jaw went slack.

"You know her?" Luke asked.

"Yes," Draco said looking back to Hermione. "She's just visiting."

"Oh," Luke said, and his anger immediately subsided, "I'm sorry, I didn't realize—"

"He isn't allowed to have any visitors," Ross interrupted, stepping towards Draco's bed.

"Of course he's allowed visitors, he's in a hospital right now, not a prison," Luke interjected.

"He is still under my watch," Ross snapped.

"Well he's under _my_ care, and I say that visitors are welcomed. You have no idea how much a friendly face can help the healing process," Luke shot back, and when Ross saw that he wasn't going to get his way, he retreated back into the far corner of the room.

"Anyway," Luke continued, "I'm sorry Hermione, I wasn't aware that you knew Draco as well. Please, stay as long as you like. Draco, as I was saying…."

Hermione didn't even pay attention to Luke as he told Draco how his condition was coming along. She was pleased that Luke had defended her to Ross…but she couldn't forget what Draco had just said; _'Did he just call me an old friend? What's going on? The last time I saw him I had just turned him into the Aurors…if anything, he should be spitting fire at me. So why in Merlin's name is he being friendly?'_

Hermione's thoughts were broken when she heard the door shut. She looked up and saw that Luke had left, and that Ross had stormed out after him. Hesitantly, she looked back at Draco and found that he was promptly sneering at her.

"Don't for one minute think that I'm being nice out of the kindness of my bloody heart, Granger. I only said those things because you need to answer some questions," he said. His eyes looked livid.

Well…there was the rude Draco. At least she wasn't going crazy.

"You want to know why I'm in your room," she answered for him.

"No, I want to know why you're in the bloody hospital!"

Hermione didn't say anything for a long stretch, but she finally replied, "Something…something happened."

"And?" he somewhat yelled at her, then he started laughing, "I've been locked up in a fucking cell for Merlin knows how long! I don't know what's happening in the world; I'm going to need more than 'something happened!' And take that damned mask off your face; I can't understand a bloody thing you say!"

She stared at him coolly. Should she stand there and tell him exactly why she was in the hospital? Should she tell him about the final battle? Should she tell him that Harry and Ron lay rooms away, unconscious and cataleptic?

She wanted to tell him. She wanted to tell him, only because that meant she could sit here and talk to him. She wanted to be near him, and listen to his voice. She didn't have to be afraid of him because he was tied down. She would have the upper hand in the conversation…and now, the more she thought about staying there with him, she wanted to sit on the edge of his bed, and touch his face, and wish him better, and kiss him—

"Granger, would you bloody pay attention?" he exclaimed suddenly.

"I can't," she said finally.

"What do you mean you can't, it isn't that difficult! Just concentrate really hard on what I'm saying—"

"I'm not dense, Malfoy, I can very well pay attention!" she busted out suddenly, feeling highly anxious.

"THEN WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM?" he screamed at her.

Hermione couldn't believe how angry he was getting. She had seen Malfoy irate in the past seven years, but there was something very different about his anger now. It almost sounded…desperate.

"I can't tell you what's happened," she finally said calmly. It suddenly seemed imperative that she not tell him anything.

She heard Draco throw some choice curse words at her, but she ignored them and left the room swiftly. Once she was out in the hallway, she could barely breathe; why was she unable to tell him about the war?

It was guilt.

According to Draco's left forearm, he was still a Death Eater. Ron and Harry were both hanging on for life…and yet there she was, about to spell out the events of the final battle to someone who was in Voldemort's company.

It had seemed horribly wrong almost as soon as he had suggested it. And while she still wanted to be with him in that hospital room, she knew deep down that it wasn't right.

Right now, she needed to be with the people who loved her…not with a boy who no longer loved her, no matter how much it stung to admit.

She caught her breath, and then headed towards Ron's room. She had expected Ron to be sitting up in his bed, presumably eating, but he hadn't moved. He was still lying unconscious in the hospital bed.

The Weasley boys were all gathered on the floor, talking quietly amongst themselves, and Mr. Weasley was sitting by Ron's side. He was staring at the back of his hands with a faraway look in his eye—and then it struck Hermione that he wasn't staring at his hand… he was staring at his wedding ring.

Grief swept through Hermione almost immediately. Silent tears began to gather in the corners of her eyes, blurring her vision completely; tears for Molly, and for Ron and Harry. She looked over at the twins, and the tears finally fell when she saw the sorrow etched in their faces. The twins, who were usually bubbly and finding the funny side of any situation, were huddled on the floor, looking more lost than ever.

The rain from outside was hitting the window with inconsistency, and the room suddenly felt stuffy and uncomfortable. The only sounds were the sniffing of noses and Ron's labored breathing that never seemed to change. Hermione felt her heart twinge, and before her cries interrupted the stillness, she stepped out into the hallway.

In doing so, she also collided with someone….

"Excuse me," Hermione said on impulse, and continued on her way.

"Excuse me," the woman replied in a shaky voice.

Hermione's head shot up when she heard the woman speak, and she spun around to face her. She was wearing black chiffon robes with silver beadwork that almost made it look couture…but her most striking attribute was her long silver-blonde hair, that looked almost identical to Draco's. That…and Hermione was certain she had heard her voice before.

"Right this way Mrs. Malfoy," another woman said from her side. Hermione's mouth dropped and she watched the women walk down the hall towards Draco's room. She was frozen to the spot, but ought she to be so surprised? Wouldn't a mother come to visit her only son when he was almost killed?

Hermione couldn't tear her eyes away, but was a little shocked when the women passed by Draco's room, and entered a different room that was on the other side of the hallway. Then she remembered that Lucius was also in the hospital. She had heard the men talking about Lucius and Draco in the changing room…how could she have forgotten?

Hermione's mind was on overload, and she suddenly felt very claustrophobic in the hallway. She spun on her heel and ran to the lift, wanting to get off this floor that held so much stress and sorrow. At the moment, she needed to run away, and regroup her mind so that she wouldn't break down and need a room of her own.

She pushed the button for the lift repeatedly, and tears began to gather again when it still hadn't come. She wasn't sure if it was frustration, grief, or nerves that made the tears begin to stream down her cheeks, but she thought she might scream from all the emotion she was feeling. Hermione became infuriated now that she was standing in the hall, crying, and waiting on a lift that didn't seem to care about her at all, so she spun around to find a stairwell instead.

It was across the hall from the lift, so she pulled the heavy steel door opened and began running up the stairs, taking them two at a time while tears poured down her cheeks and the sounds of her coughing and hurried footsteps echoed loudly about her. It was all too much…and before Hermione realized it she tripped and fell hard to the floor. Her knee collided with a step, and she grabbed at it, sobbing even harder from the pain.

Hermione wanted to scream…she wanted to yell to the gods and ask them what she had done that made her deserve everything. What had Harry or Ron done wrong? And even Draco, why was he being punished for what was ultimately his father's mistake?

She grinded her teeth, and coughed until her throat was sore and her mouth was dry. When her tears subsided, she laid her face against the cool steps, and closed her eyes, wishing that she could turn time back. It was a pity that she no longer had a time-turner with her, or she would have gone into the past in a heart beat.

Hermione began to think about that day at her parents' funeral, and she wished that she hadn't asked Draco to leave her alone. She wished that she had let him stand there and be with her as she said goodbye to her Mum and Dad, and she wished that she had been there to protect him when his father had turned on him. She wished that she had stopped Ron before he had moved, and saved him from getting hit with the Cruciatus curse. She wished that she would have Apparated Harry to safety so that he didn't get hit with the black mist. She wished that she had been there with Ginny so that they could have saved Molly….

There were so many things that she wished she had done differently, but she knew it was no use. _'What's done is done, no matter how much I wish it weren't,'_ she thought as she felt herself calm down. The hard part now was learning to accept it.

As Hermione's breathing returned to normal, she picker herself up off the ground, and began to climb the stairs.

As she climbed, she began to wonder about Narcissa Malfoy. Hermione had never met her, but she had heard her voice the very first time she had been portkeyed to Malfoy Manor.

How could a woman, who seemed polite, be married to a Death Eater? Furthermore, how could she allow her only son to live in his father's shadow? Hermione began to suspect that Narcissa was not what she appeared to be. Could she be a Death Eater as well? _'No,' _Hermione thought,_ 'if she was, she would have been hurt along with every other Death Eater who was….'_

It was then, that she had an epiphany.

She…Hermione Granger, had saved Draco's life.

By turning him in to the Aurors that day at Diagon Alley, she had prevented his presence at the Burrow on the day of the final battle. If he had been on the field, he would have been killed by the black mist just like every other Death Eater.

Hermione swayed, her feet growing numb and unable to carry her. She fell back against a wall, and a great shiver grew throughout her body, which made her limbs tingle. She couldn't help the smile that began to grow over her face. She breathed out in what she assumed was relief.

'_I saved him,'_ she thought to herself again. It was the most reassuring thing she had thought of in a long time…probably since the day Draco's memory was stolen. She had been unable to save him then…but now, she had succeeded.

As she opened the door to the fifth floor, she made her way to the waiting room. Tonks was still there, but she was no longer alone. A man was sitting beside her, and it was obvious that they were in a deep conversation.

"Oh, there she is," Tonks said suddenly, and the man turned around to face Hermione as she approached. He stood up, and extended his right hand.

"Hello, I'm Ben Collins, a reporter for The Daily Prophet," he said clearly. He had short brown hair, a pleasant tan face, and a tall physique. All in all, he was very handsome.

"Hermione Granger," she replied, and she shook his hand gingerly. Her eyes met Tonks with question, but Tonks pulled Hermione into the chair beside her.

"I've known Ben for a long time, he is one of the most trustworthy reporters I know," Tonks reassured Hermione.

"Just trying to do my job," Ben said. "Hermione, if you don't mind, I'd very much like to talk to you."

Hermione looked to Tonks again, unsure if she should talk with him. She didn't have the best history with reporters…then again, seeing as his name wasn't Skeeter, it probably wouldn't be a problem.

"Alright," Hermione agreed.

"Brilliant," Ben smiled, "the wizarding world needs to know what happened, and who better to tell the tale then Harry Potter's right hand girl."

For the next hour, Ben let Hermione tell her story of the final battle. He didn't interrupt her with questions like a usual reporter would; he simply let her talk as a quill quoted her speech.

When Hermione was finished, Ben thanked her repeatedly and told her to expect to see her story in the paper in the morning. He and Tonks left to get some tea, and Hermione was left alone.

She slumped down in the waiting chair, too exhausted to register how uncomfortable the seat was. Within moments, her head fell back, and she fell into a deep sleep.

* * *

Hermione cracked her eyes opened, and she gave a small groan when she felt how stiff her neck was. Her chair squeaked insistently as she pulled her body to a sitting position, and she looked around the waiting room to find it completely deserted.

Sunlight was pouring in through the window, signaling that the rain had passed. She stood up and stretched, then sighed when she realized that she didn't feel the least bit rested.

Hermione went to make herself a cup of tea, and then she wandered over to the lift. She pushed the button, and began to wonder if Ron or Harry had awoken.

The ding from the lift chimed, and when the doors opened, her breath caught in her throat.

"Malfoy?"

There Draco was, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest.

"You seem surprised to see me," he said lowly.

She stepped cautiously into lift, "Well, shouldn't you be in your hospital room?"

"My mother got them to let me out," he replied.

She stared at him for a moment, "Well? Are you getting off?"

"No," he answered casually.

"Okay," Hermione replied slowly as she shook her head. She pushed the button for the fourth floor, and turned her back to him as she watched to doors to the lift shut. "So your mother got you out...what did your keeper have to say about that, I wonder," she said.

"If by keeper, you're referring to the half-wit who was assigned to keep watch over me, he knew not to mess with my mother," Draco replied as the lift began to descent.

Suddenly, Draco stepped up beside her, and quickly pulled on the emergency button so that the lift halted to a stop.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she yelled, and before she could try and push the button back in to place, he pushed her away.

He looked very angry, and Hermione retreated as far as she could into the corner. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a newspaper. Then, he threw it harshly to the ground.

"I see that you can easily tell reporters your account for the final battle," he said sarcastically. "Why the fuck didn't you tell me about this when I asked you?"

Hermione looked at the front page to see her name flying around a long article in The Daily Prophet.

She looked back up at him. "Well, now you know what happened!"

He advanced on her, and her hands flinched on reflex so that her hot tea went flying onto Draco.

"Shit that's hot!" he cursed. Now, even angrier, he got within inches of Hermione's face and began to curse at her.

"I don't understand why you're so angry," she said callously. She could feel his breath on her cheek and it was beginning to give her goosebumps.

"Try being locked up in a cell for days and being ignorant of one of the most important times of our lives, and then maybe you'll understand," he hissed.

"And whose fault is that?"

"Yours," he replied immediately.

"And did it ever occur to you that because I turned you in that day, I also saved your life?"

Draco's face fell, but Hermione didn't give him a chance to continue.

"If you read the article, which I'm assuming you did, you'll realize that every Death Eater who was at the final battle died because of the black mist. You weren't on the field because of me. You didn't die, because of me," she finished, a little out of breath.

Draco was staring intently into her eyes, and Hermione had no idea what to say next. So she waited for him to act.

However, she had no idea that his next move would be to swoop down and capture her lips with his.

She gasped in surprise, and felt every hair on the back of her neck stand up when his tongue invaded her mouth with a deep hunger. Her neck arched up in need and her hands sprung up to lie on his chest.

It was like a memory from a long time ago…like when people smell a certain smell, it triggers their minds of someone or something.

Draco's kisses…they flooded Hermione's mind with memories of the two of them. Of their first kiss…and of their last kiss.

When his hands crept up her sides, she giggled into his mouth and the memory of their snog session in the library came clear to her mind, when he had first tickled her on accident. This time, his hands clamped onto her hip, and when she stopped laughing, he began to press himself against her.

She couldn't help the small moan that escaped her lips, and in turn, she moved her hands to his back and pressed her breasts against his chest.

Then, one of his hands trailed up her arm to rest on her shoulder, and he started to push on it…back, forth, back, forth….

"Hermione?" Tonks said, pushing on her shoulder to wake her. "Hermione, wake up, it's the morning," she whispered.

"What?" she said and she sat up in the red chair to be met with Tonks and Ginny.

"Hermione," Ginny was smiling down at her, "Did you have a nice rest?"

'_It was a dream,'_ she thought, disappointment falling over her face. "Yes," she replied to the girls. "I just…I had a…weird dream, that's all," she said, and she began to wipe the sleep out of her eyes.

"Hermione, we have good news," Ginny said as she helped her best friend stand up. "Ron's awake!"

"Really?" She felt her heart swell.

"Really! He's been asking for you all morning, do want to come and see him?"

"Yes, yes, let me just get some tea," Hermione said as she walked over to the drinks. After she poured herself a steaming hot cup, the three of them walked to the lift.

Hermione wasn't sure why, but when the doors to the lift opened, she searched it for Draco.

"Hermione?" Tonks said, as her and Ginny had already boarded the lift. "You coming?"

Hermione smiled and nodded, "Just day dreaming," she replied.


	12. House Arrest

**House Arrest**

Draco's fingernails drummed consistently against the metal frame of his hospital bed, and he was pleased with how much the noise seemed to be irritating Ross.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, fully dressed in his somewhat dirty black robes, with one leg bouncing through an anxious jitter. "Why the hell is this taking so long?"

Ross didn't answer him, but when Draco's tapping grew even louder, he strode over to the door and slammed it on the way out.

Draco rolled his eyes, and stopped the tapping with a small chuckle.

He had been discharged from the hospital at least a half hour ago, yet here he sat, bound to the hospital bed. He had no idea what was taking the Healers so long…then again, he didn't mind the delay. His anxiety was not only about going back into a cell; it was that leaving the hospital was a reminder of the trial that lay before him.

Suddenly, the door swung opened.

"Draco, get your things. We're leaving," his mother said as she strode into his room.

Ross was right behind her, "Draco is under ministry custody Mrs. Malfoy, and he cannot go—"

Draco watched as his mother stopped still, spun to Ross, and gave him a scathing glare. "And you are?" she asked arrogantly.

"Mr. Ross, your sons keeper so to speak," he said, raising his chin as he was slightly shorter than Narcissa.

"Well, Mr. Ross, I'll have you know that since my son was hospitalized, he will be spending his time at home recuperating and awaiting his trial, not a filthy ministry bunker. It would be barbaric to force him into a cold, dark cell after surviving such a traumatic event. He is coming home with me right now. Are we clear?"

Ross' mouth dropped opened a bit, unsure of what to do.

Narcissa turned back to Draco, "Are you ready darling?"

Draco nodded, trying not to grin ear to ear from his mother's obvious superiority, and from the dumbstruck look on Ross' contorted face.

"Mrs. Malfoy," Ross stepped forward when she got out her wand to remove Draco's bindings, "you will be breaking the law if you take him."

"Then find a way to make it okay," she said simply.

Ross sighed, "I suppose…the only way I can allow this is if I go with you both. I'm obligated to keep watch over him until he has been cleared by the Wizengamot."

Narcissa's eyebrow rose inconspicuously.

"What?" Draco burst out, "You, come to the Manor? You have got to be joking—"

"Fine," Narcissa interrupted. "I don't care if you come, so long as Draco is at home with me."

"Very well then, I have to let my supervisor know—"

"_Finite Incantatem_!" Narcissa said and Draco's bindings disappeared.

* * *

Hermione was elated when she saw Ron's eyes opened when she walked into his room. His brothers were all huddled around his bed, and Arthur was leaning against the wall looking beyond relieved. She could hear Ron sniffing, and she guessed that his brothers had just told him about Molly, so she stayed by the door until he made eye contact with her.

"Ron," Hermione said, smiling widely. She ran to his side and threw her arms around him, "We were so worried," she whispered to him. Then she pulled away, and looked directly at him. "How are you feeling?" She couldn't stop the lone tear that slid down her cheek.

"Stop your crying," he said ironically as he too had tears in his eyes, "I'm fine."

"Good," she smiled. She felt Ginny place a hand on her shoulder, and for the first time in hours, she felt relief flood through her. Ron was going to be alright.

They sat and talked for an hour about the final battle, and Hermione explained to Ron exactly what had happened to everyone that was on the field.

"And how is Harry doing now?" Ron finally asked.

Hermione glanced to Ginny, for she had been by his side the most.

"He…he hasn't woken yet," Ginny said.

"I want to see him," Ron said as he swung his feet over to stand.

"I'm not sure you're allowed—"

"I don't care if I'm not allowed, I'm going to see him," Ron interrupted his sister.

"Well, Luke probably won't have a problem with it, but it's the nurses who are a real pain about who is let in. Why don't I go look for him?" Ginny suggested.

"Fine," Ron replied.

Hermione chewed on the inside of her mouth at the mention of Luke. If he saw her, he would certainly ask about her visit with Draco. "Ginny, I'll come with you," Hermione offered, letting go of Ron's arm. It seemed like a good opportunity to let Ginny know about Draco.

"Alright," Ginny said as she opened the door.

Once they were out in the hallway, Hermione put her hand on Ginny's arm. "Wait, I have to tell you something."

"What is it?"

Hermione hesitated, "It's about Draco." She caught Ginny's eye; "He's here, in the hospital."

"Really?" Ginny replied in disbelief.

"Yes, and I—I spoke with him."

Ginny's eyebrows rose, but she remained silent.

"It was…an accident really," Hermione said as she explained the nurse mistaking her for someone else.

"What happened to him? Why is he here?"

"Well I didn't ask, but I'm assuming it's the black mist. If it attacked every Death Eater on the field, it only makes sense that it would also go after the ones not on the field as well. Only, it didn't cause as much harm to him. He seems fine," Hermione finished.

"So what did you say to him?"

Hermione told her about him mistaking her for a nurse as well, and that Luke had come in and given away her identity.

"He started asking me about the final battle…but I didn't tell him anything, I just left," Hermione admitted, looking down at her shoes. "He'll find out soon enough."

"Yes well, Tonks told us that you talked to her reporter friend," Ginny said.

Hermione nodded, "I hope he doesn't bend my words, I only talked with him because Tonks knew him."

"I'm glad that you did, the wizarding world needs to hear the truth."

When they found Luke, he agreed that Ron would be fine to visit Harry, as long as he checked on Ron first. The girls followed closely as Luke made his way to Ron's room.

To Hermione's relief, Luke didn't bring up seeing her in Draco's room. She watched as he gave Ron a potion to drink before he was allowed to walk around.

Within fifteen minutes, Ron, Ginny, Hermione, and the twins headed to Harry's room, but they were stopped by the nurses.

"You two," she pointed to Fred and George, "You aren't properly clothed to visit this patient."

"The changing room is just down the hall," Hermione said before the nurse could.

"We'll meet you inside," George replied before they left.

Hermione was glad to see that Harry was no longer in that floating contraption, he was now in a hospital bed like Ron and Ginny had been in.

Ginny sat on the edge of Harry's bed as Ron took the empty chair next to his best mate, and Hermione stood right behind Ron.

"He looks pale," Hermione finally said to break the silence.

Ron nodded his head, unable to reply.

When Hermione heard the door open, she turned to see Fred and George step into the room. They stood next to Hermione, and looked down at Harry with blank expressions. Neither of them said a word.

After twenty minutes passed, the nurses shooed them all back into the hallway. Hermione sighed, and hung her head down to stretch her neck. All of this silent thought about death was stressing out her body.

"Oi, Hermione," Fred tapped her on the shoulder, "Did you know that Malfoy is here in the hospital?"

Her cheeks grew red, "R-Really?" she asked shakily as she raised her head.

"Yea, saw him with his mum, George and I did. She was yelling at this bloke about taking him home, or something of the sort."

"She was pulling Malfoy down the hallway when we passed. He threw us a mean look, but he didn't say anything, probably because his mum was right there. It was rather funny, actually," George finished with a smile.

Hermione's jaw dropped. She was a little stunned that Narcissa actually had the power to take him home. What about his trial? Was he automatically cleared because of the final battle? Or would he be automatically sentenced?

"I'm going to go use the loo," she said to the twins before she headed down the hallway. When she passed Draco's room, the door was wide opened. She stopped to peer inside, but found the room empty, and the bed neatly made.

She glanced at the parchment on his door, but it no longer had his name at the top. Hermione then remembered that his father was here to, and she walked across the hall to find his father's room. The parchment on his door still read **Lucius Malfoy**, and Hermione wondered why Narcissa would drag Draco home, but not her own husband.

Her eyes lingered on Draco's room before she turned back towards Ron's room, and she wished that she had been able to see him once more before he left.

When she reached Ron's room again, she noticed that Arthur was missing. "Where did your dad go?" she asked Ginny.

"He had to go to the ministry," she replied. "When do you think we'll be able to go home?"

Hermione shrugged. Honestly, the thought of going back to the burrow gave her goosebumps. It would be difficult to return to the burrow, for it was probably still in disarray. But then it hit Hermione, that the Burrow wasn't her real home…she didn't have one. Yes, the Burrow was more of a home than anything to her, but it still wasn't hers.

After everything that had happened, she realized that she desperately wanted to return to her _own_ home. She wanted to sleep in her own bed, and she wanted to cook in her own kitchen, and relax in her own backyard.

"You okay?" Ginny asked when Hermione had a distant look on her face.

Hermione nodded, "Yes, I was just thinking about where my home really is."

"Well that's a silly thought," Ginny smiled warmly, "It's with us. A home doesn't have to be a place, it's who you're with that matters. Without a family, a home would just be a house."

* * *

Draco grimaced as Ross had insisted on holding tightly to his arm as they Apparated to Malfoy Manor, in case Draco tried to Apparate somewhere else instead. Frankly, the thought hadn't crossed Draco's mind until Ross had mentioned it.

His mother landed right behind them in the Manor's parlor. Draco tried to shove Ross' hand away but he wouldn't give.

"Do you mind?"

"I'm not letting you go yet," Ross said. "Where will he be staying?"

Narcissa didn't say anything, but motioned for him to walk ahead of her.

"My room," Draco mumbled as he took a right out of the parlor. That was when he heard his mother shout a curse from behind.

Draco felt Ross' hand leave his arm, and then he heard Ross' body fall to the floor.

He spun around to face his mum with a questioning expression.

"Come with me Draco, we're leaving England. Your father is nearly dead, and I won't lose you as well!"

The sound of Apparition from the parlor made Draco flinch, and before he could react, a man he recognized as Ross' boss had his wand aimed for them. "Not so fast," he said calmly. _"Accio wand!"_ he roared quickly and Narcissa's wand flew out of her hand.

Draco heard his mother gasp when her wand soared away from her grasp, and he was surprised that she didn't retaliate.

"Mr. Blakely," Narcissa said as she clenched the fist that once held her wand.

He smirked, "I thought you might try and run," he said as he walked around to face them both, "I guess I was right." He looked down at Ross and rolled his eyes, "I knew that Ross wouldn't be able to handle the two of you, good thing I decided to tag along, eh?"

Draco glanced at his mother, wondering what her next move would be.

But none came. Narcissa remained silent, and refused to look at Blakely as he continued to talk to them.

"Oh, Draco, by the way, your trial will be tomorrow," he said offhandedly as if the news meant nothing to him.

Draco's stomach lurked; he certainly hadn't expected that..

"Now I will allow you to stay here tonight, _only_ because of your recent hospitalization. Let me make it clear that you are under house arrest. You may not leave your room, and no one may enter, _including_ your mother," Blakely said as he glanced at Narcissa. "Wards will be put up immediately to ensure that you don't try and escape."

Draco clenched his teeth together and nodded twice. As much as he hated the entire situation, the man's proposal was decent considering his circumstances. He watched with glossy eyes as Blakely revived Ross, and scolded him for his incompetence, and Draco couldn't help the tiny smirk that stole the corner of his mouth.

* * *

Hermione, Ginny, and the rest of the Weasley boys had been chased out of Ron's room since he needed his rest after a grueling dose of recovery potions.

They all sat sipping tea on the fifth floor. Boredom started to settle in, and talk of returning home was weighing heavily on everyone's minds.

The sound of footsteps coming from the lift was the most noise they had heard in hours, and they all looked up expectedly. It was Arthur, returning from the ministry, and he looked overwhelmed.

"Hey dad," Charlie and Bill stood to greet their father.

"Hullo everyone," Arthur said with a sigh.

"Everything alright?" Ginny asked sweetly as she stood to give him a hug.

"Yes, it's just—I've heard some news that Hermione ought to hear."

Hermione's heart skipped a beat. "What is it?"

"Malfoy's trial has been rescheduled to tomorrow. He goes in front of the Wizengamot at nine in the morning."

Hermione's mouth dropped opened in a dramatic fashion.

"Hermione, I did get to talk to a friend at the ministry. If you still want to leave an affidavit, you can. You just have to be at the Ministry tomorrow morning _before _his hearing begins. Do you know exactly what you want to say?"

"I—I think so," she said, nodding confidently, though she could feel herself begin to sweat.

"Good, that's good," he sighed as he looked around at his family. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to talk to the Healer about going home. We all need to get away from this hospital."

An hour later, Hermione and the Weasley's headed back to the Burrow. Ron had been released with a strict set of potions to take every morning, and every evening.

When Hermione apparated into the living room of the Burrow, her stomach flipped over. She spotted her luggage lying haphazardly on the floor, while the rest of the house was exactly how she remembered it from that night. There were dishes everywhere, and there was still blood.

Everyone was very quiet. Arthur, Bill, and Charlie began to clean up the mess. The twins went outside to the backyard. Ron walked around to glance at pictures of his mum before he sat on the couch. Ginny ran upstairs to lie on her mum's bed. And Hermione just stood still, watching the family that now had a missing piece. It was enough to make her eyes tear up.

Hermione went to join Ron on the couch, and asked if he needed anything.

"No," he replied. "So I guess you'll go to the ministry with my dad tomorrow?"

"Yes, and when I'm through, I'll meet you in Ginny back at the hospital so that we can be with Harry."

"Okay, sounds good," Ron stretched his mouth so that it might resemble a smile. He gave Hermione a long hug, and then bid her goodnight. He helped her with her luggage, and then went to find Ginny.

Hermione immediately grabbed a fresh nightgown, and went to shower. She spent at least twenty minutes, standing with her head against the cool tile, letting the water run down her back.

As she dried her hair and brushed her teeth, she began to rehearse what she would say tomorrow in Draco's defense, but she kept freezing up and forgetting what she should say to prove his innocence.

She thought about bringing her Pensieve, but she wasn't sure she wanted a stranger to prod around her most intimate thoughts, especially those that concerned Draco. She would simply offer to take Veritaserum, and then tell them why Draco shouldn't be sentenced to Azkaban.

* * *

Draco couldn't sleep.

He had been tossing and turning for hours, unable to imagine what he would do if he were sentenced to Azkaban, and the one time he had dozed off, he had dreamt that he was found guilty.

"Guilty of what?" his dream self had asked furiously.

"Guilty of having the mark of the Dark Lord."

"But it was forced upon me! I didn't want it!" he had screamed back.

"That is not the Wizengamots fault boy, you could have prevented it."

"Not with a father like Lucius I couldn't! You all know how high he was among the Death Eaters; he would have killed me if I'd refused!"

Draco's dream had ended with him falling hundreds of feet, with no end in sight. It was as if he were sliding down through the jaws of death into the mouth of hell and eventually landing in a soiled hole, which sat with an eerie stillness that could only mean he was in Azkaban.

Draco climbed out of bed to take a shower. It was very early in the morning, but he couldn't handle lying awake and imagining the rest of his life in a cell any longer. During his shower, he found that he couldn't calm his racing heart down, and for the first time in his life, he was fearful of something other than Voldemort or Lucius.

He dried his body off, and went to light a fire.

"Draco, darling," a voice cooed.

"Mum?" Draco saw his mother's face in the fire. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I couldn't sleep and I was sure you couldn't either."

He shook his head solemnly.

"And since I can't even see you, I wanted to at least talk to you and wish you luck today."

Draco smiled half-heartedly, "Thank you, mum."

She sighed, "News of you trial is all over the Daily Prophet, I imagine there will be quite a turnout."

"I need to ask you something," he said suddenly.

"What?"

"Well I'm going on trial tomorrow, for following a wizard who is dead now…don't you think I ought to know what happened to him, and the rest of the Death Eaters?"

"Yes."

"So? What happened?" he asked anxiously.

"Well, I only know what happened through the Daily Prophet, and who knows how accurate that is. Although…"

"Although what?" Draco pressed.

"The story was given by one of Potter's friends, the girl."

Draco paused, "Granger?"

"Yes," she confirmed.

"Do…do you still have the article? I'd like to read it."

"I'll send it with Tish right away, dear."

"Thank you mother."

When Tish appeared with the Daily Prophet, Draco had to urge her to keep it down for she was ecstatic to see him. She insisted on bringing him a good meal before he went to the ministry, and he couldn't argue. He was famished.

The article surprised Draco. "The black mist then swarmed every Death Eater on the field and killed them. It also went after Harry, as he too was branded by Voldemort," Draco imagined Hermione's know-it-all voice reading it out loud. "Since every Death Eater was not on the field that day, I know for a fact that it also went after the remaining Death Eaters."

Draco remembered her pretending to be a nurse to come into his room. Was she checking up on him for the article? Was she seeing if he were alive or comatose like his father? But more importantly, why was it that she hadn't told him any of this when he'd asked her? When she looked at him, did she only see the Death Eater he had become and not the boy she grew up with at Hogwarts?

And if that were the case, why then, had she looked at him so…fondly? He hadn't missed the way her hand shook when she was giving him a drink, and her eyes couldn't lie…she had been nervous around him. That meant she was either scared of him, or…something else.

As he continued to think about Granger, he wondered if she had graduated Hogwarts at the top of their class, but he couldn't remember. He wondered if Potter and Weasley had even passed their NEWTS. But then, had he? He couldn't even remember his score, which was very odd.

Tish popped up next to him, and all thoughts of his tenuous past flew his mind. Draco thanked her for the meal, and tossed the Daily Prophet aside, but when he looked down at his meal, he frowned. His hearty breakfast was just another relentless reminder of what lay before him.

* * *

Hermione and Mr. Weasley walked towards the Atrium in the Ministry of Magic. She found herself glancing about her, wondering where all of the people were because the place seemed vacant to her.

"This is déjà vu," Arthur said suddenly.

"What is?"

"Just the fact that only a few years ago, Harry and I were walking this way to get his wand checked before his hearing."

Hermione smiled, thankful that Harry's hearing had gone well all those years ago. "Do you think Dumbledore will show up on Draco's behalf like he did for Harry?"

Arthur shrugged, "I dunno."

Hermione produced her wand to the large man behind the counter, and a small piece of parchment sped out of a scale that her wand had been placed on.

"So where am I going to give my affidavit?" Hermione asked when the man was done searching her.

"Level two," Arthur replied as they boarded the lift along with a few flying memos.

Hermione's brow was starting to sweat. She rehearsed what she was going to say, and hoped that it would be enough to help Draco's case.

She fingered the large ring on her left hand, and swallowed hard. Moments before she had left the Burrow, she had run back to her room to transfigure her Pensieve into a ring…just in case.

* * *

Draco dressed in his most expensive black robes for his trial. If this were to be his last day as a free wizard, he damned well was going to look his very best.

Two loud knocks on his bedroom door signaled that it was time.

Draco smoothed down his slacks, put his chin high in the air, and sauntered towards his door. He swung it opened quickly, and almost hit Ross square in the face. Draco flashed him a saucy grin as Ross took his arm to escort him out of his room.

Draco found his mother in the parlor with Blakely. She looked miserable, and her chin was quivering in an attempt not to cry.

She went to her son and gave him a tight hug, "You come back to me, Draco. Promise me you'll return."

He pulled away and nodded briefly.

She smiled, "Go on then, get it over with."

Blakely stood to grasp Draco's free arm, and in moments, the three men Apparated out of the Manor.

Draco landed in an unfamiliar part of the Ministry. He didn't see a single person, which was highly unusual. Blakely spoke to Ross in hushed tones, and eventually left Ross and Draco alone in the hallway.

"Now what?" Draco asked sarcastically, as it seemed that Ross was stalling for some reason.

"We need to go to the Auror Headquarters," Ross finally replied as he began to pull Draco towards the lift.

When they reached level two, Ross continued to pull Draco behind him. They passed many small offices, most of which had large glass windows. All of the offices were only occupied by one person, except one…and that was what caused Draco to halt in his tracks.

"Come on," Ross said somewhat sternly.

But Draco couldn't move. His mouth dropped opened as he stared at two people he never expected to see in the same room: Mr. Blakely…and Hermione Granger.


	13. Draco's Decree

** Draco's Decree  
**

"Good morning, Mr. Blakely," Hermione said promptly when he greeted her by his office door.

"Morning," he replied as he held the door opened for her. "Have a seat."

Hermione gave a weak smile and gingerly sat in a small cushiony chair as he began to talk. The office was stark white and very clean. Nothing seemed out of place on his desk or on his shelves, and everything was colorless save some of the books. He had a particularly square jaw, his face was clean-shaven, and his robes looked freshly pressed. All in all, he stuck out like a sore thumb in the diminutive ministry office.

She was so preoccupied by her thoughts that she only comprehended bits and pieces of his speech, but she nodded all the way through to pretend that he had her undivided attention.

"So, Miss Granger, do you understand what we are doing here today?"

"I believe so."

"Very well, I'll have my assistant come in as my second witness to your testimony," he said as he scribbled a note on a sheet of parchment.

Hermione could feel the adrenaline course through her veins; she knew what she wanted to say, she just hoped that she didn't talk too fast.

But just at that moment, when she had the most confidence, she saw something in her periphery vision. She turned her head to look out of the large glass window, and gasped.

Draco Malfoy stood outside the window rigid, staring at her with an astonished look on his face. Seconds later, then man who held Draco's arm dislodged him from his spot, and he was pulled down the hall out of Hermione's sight.

Her mouth was still hanging opened as she leaned out of her chair to watch Draco's form retreating.

"Is something wrong?"

Hermione's head whipped back towards Blakely. "I beg your pardon?"

"I said, is something wrong?"

"No. No, not at all," she replied quickly, trying to calm her breaths. She hardly noticed when a tall slender woman entered the office and took a seat beside her.

"Hello, my name is Natalie Swan." She extended her hand which Hermione took, and returned the same firm grasp. "Shall we begin?"

But as Natalie and Blakely turned their attention to her, all Hermione could focus on was the fact that Draco had seen her there at the Ministry. Would he think it was just a coincidence that she was there on the morning of his trial? He wasn't thick; he would probably figure out that her presence had something to do with him.

Her perfectly planned speech was lost on her tongue, and she sat in silence, mentally kicking herself for the fish-out-of-water expression she was now displaying.

"Are you not feeling well Miss Granger? You look awfully pale," Natalie said rather benevolently.

"Here," Blakely said a bit hastily, and with a flick of his wrist, a glass of water appeared in front of her.

In need of a distraction to try and collect herself, Hermione reached for the glass and slowly sipped on the water_. 'Come on, Hermione, pull yourself together,' _she thought.

She tucked her hair behind her ears and slowly began. "There's something that you need to know about Draco Malfoy. He's innocent."

Blakely smirked. "Well, we like to think that all wizards that come before a court are innocent until proven guilty. But I'm interested, what exactly makes you so certain that he is not a Death Eater?"

"I know that he's a Death Eater, Sir. What I mean, is that he's innocent in regards to how he got the mark. Draco was against his father, and was certainly against following in his footsteps. He would never have taken the mark, had certain…things not happened."

Blakely's eyebrows narrowed. "What things?"

"That's why I am here. To show you that Draco Malfoy is not a clone of his father like you think he is."

Blakely seemed happy about her declaration, but his eyes bulged when he saw her flip her wand out.

_ "Finite Incantatem!" _ she said, pointing her wand at the ring she had just taken off. Blakely and Natalie both had gaping expressions as they watched the ring grow into a Pensieve.

Hermione could feel her confidence grow as she watched their bewildered looks. "Please, let me to show you Draco Malfoy's true story. . . ."

* * *

"We've been instructed to wait in here," Ross said as he pulled Draco through a doorway. 

Draco let out a low chuckle as he recognized the familiar room that held several small cells.

"You've got to be joking," he said exasperatedly.

Ross only grinned. "In you go," he said as he held a cell door opened for Draco.

"Wait until my mother hears of this," he mumbled as he leaned against the wall as not to dirty his good dress robes.

Ross shut the door with great force, and Draco heard him sigh loudly.

As if Draco didn't have enough on his mind this morning, now the only thing he could think about was why Granger had been at the Ministry talking to Blakely.

Perhaps they had called her in as a witness. After all, she was the person who turned him in at Diagon Alley. Maybe they were questioning her about what she had seen him do…which was nothing. He hadn't done her any i _real_ /i harm. Now that he thought about it, he could have killed her if he hadn't stopped. She was damn lucky that he had felt pity on her…or was it his conscious that had stopped him from choking her that day?

No matter…whatever it was that Granger was telling Blakely, it was probably irrelevant. It would neither help nor hurt him.

An hour or more had passed before Draco heard his cell door open. "Come along," Ross said.

Draco casually kicked off from the wall, and strode over the threshold. Ross promptly took hold of his arm, and began to lead him out of the cell room and down the same hallway that they had earlier passed down.

He was sure to glance into every office, wondering if they were still questioning Granger. When there was no sign of her or Blakely, his heart began to beat almost painfully against his chest as he realized that he was now walking to his hearing.

This was it…it could very well be the last time he walked freely down a hallway. It could be the last time he ever laid eyes on the inside of the Ministry of Magic. His stomach was in knots, and he felt his hands grow clammy.

As they stepped in the lift, he felt claustrophobic and his breathing increased. He watched through narrowed eyes as Ross punched the button, and he clenched his teeth fiercely as he watched the doors slide shut slowly.

The lift couldn't come to a stop soon enough for Draco, and he quickly stepped out into the hallway. He was surprised to find a noisy crowd of people, who immediately stopped talking when they saw him. As Ross took his arm to pass the people, whispering started up. He felt as if he were back at Hogwarts, walking through the Great Hall with people whispering as he passed by.

His nerves were already on edge. This was not calming him in any way, and he avoided looking at them as he headed towards the doors of the courtroom. They were black, and twice his height. It was an eerie reminder that he could be locked behind doors like this for the rest of his life in Azkaban.

When the doors swung opened, he was met with an enormous room. There were narrow steps right at his feet, and he carefully followed Ross down them, until they were the focal point of the room, and all of the benches were now above him. It was odd, being the only two people in the entire room, and this fact seemed to alarm Ross.

Draco looked up at an enchanted ceiling, trying to distract himself from the fact that he was now at the mercy of the Wizengamot. It was endless, and looked like it went on forever.

Before Draco could protest, Ross had pushed him into a chair and locked his wrist to the armrest. "Stay here," Ross mumbled, and he took off up the stairs.

"Like I'm going to go anywhere," he shouted back, as he yanked on the invisible chain.

His head dipped back as he continued to look at the ceiling, but was startled when he heard a voice echo throughout the room.

"I find it rather rude that while you are on time for your trial, the Wizengamot is not."

"Dumbledore?" Draco said incredulously, searching the room. He finally caught site of the elderly wizard sitting nonchalantly on a bench near the top of the room.

Dumbledore didn't answer, only stood, and made his way down towards Draco.

All Draco could think about was the fact that Dumbledore had come to help him and testify on his behalf…to prove to the Wizengamot that he never wanted to take the mark, and that he never wanted to do his fathers bidding. He had been tricked into getting the Dark Mark. Now he only needed someone on his side (besides his Mum) that could be a witness in his favor.

Of course, Draco wouldn't say this to Dumbledore, but the relief that flooded through him from seeing his former professor was most likely evident on his face, for Dumbledore was smiling as he approached his chair.

"How are you, Draco?"

"I'm well," he replied. He began to search his brain, wondering what their last conversation consisted of, but he could not remember. Probably something about Head duties, perhaps a congratulation at the end of the year, but Draco couldn't think of anything specific.

"You look…troubled," Dumbledore said softly.

"Professor, I'm about to be sentenced for life, or set free. I'm a little on edge."

"But you shouldn't be, haven't you heard?"

Draco's eyes lit up. "Heard what?"

"My dear boy, they haven't told you?"

"If by they, you're referring to the dolts here who are keeping me locked up, no. They haven't told me anything."

Dumbledore only smiled. "Ah, well, I guess you'll find out soon enough."

Draco's mind was running rampant, what on Earth could Dumbledore be talking about? Before he could ask him to explain, the doors to the room were slammed opened. Several witches and wizards in elaborate purple robes made their way down the steps to the large desks that overlooked where Draco was sitting. He saw the silver W on their robes and sat up a bit straighter as he realized that they were the Wizengamot.

He had expected for Dumbledore to leave his side and take a seat in the benches, but he did no such thing. He stood rooted to his spot beside his former Head Boy.

Draco's attention was then caught by the other people that had entered the room. Ross and Blakely were in the lead, followed by a few dozen others. Draco noted the disgruntled look on Ross' face…that was a good thing, right? The thought flew from his mind as he saw his Mum walk into the room, with a smile on her face.

"I, Rufus Scrimgeour, call this hearing now into session," he said loudly, and Draco saw something that looked like a Quick Quills pen scribbling onto a sheet of parchment.

Draco swallowed hard.

"Draco Malfoy, you are being held for taking the Mark of the Dark Lord, and following in his company to do his biddings against this Ministry, its constituents, and of both wizard and Muggle worlds."

Draco couldn't even blink; he sat rigid on the edge of his chair, breathing rather calmly in Dumbledore's shadow.

Scrimgeour had a large stack of parchment lying in front of him, and Draco was waiting for him to pick up his quill and start sifting through the documents, but they remained untouched. His hands were folded on the desk, and he was staring down at Draco and Dumbledore with a peeved expression.

He cleared his throat before speaking. "This morning, two witnesses who shall remain anonymous stepped up to vouch on your behalf, Mr. Malfoy," he paused before continuing, "the evidence that was presented somewhat confirmed that your involvement with the Death Eaters was against your will. Seeing as this Ministry has tracked, to the best of its abilities, the activities of Death Eaters throughout the years, it was known that your particular involvement was short lived, and not severe enough to sentence you to Azkaban."

Draco felt his stomach drop like he was falling, and heard his mum sigh loudly from a high bench.

"As you can see, there are no additional council members present," he said as he motioned to the empty benches. "As not to waste the time of me and my company, we see no need to question you, Mr. Malfoy. The Wizengamot hereby grants you a full pardon, but will keep watch over your actions for the remainder of your life. This hearing is adjourned."

Draco's mouth physically dropped. _'That was fast,' _he thought with raised eyebrows.

The other members of the Wizengamot were already standing to leave, and Draco felt a squeeze on his shoulder. He glanced up at Dumbledore, who gave him a small nod, and then turned around to leave the room.

Draco wanted to thank him, for surely Dumbledore had been a witness, but he couldn't form the words. He watched the retreating backsides of Dumbledore and the Wizengamot, and had to smirk a bit when he saw Ross coming down to him.

Ross shrugged his shoulders and released Draco's hands from the invisible bindings. "Well—" he paused, "off you go."

Draco didn't reply, and took the steps out of the room two at a time.

* * *

Hermione sat with crossed legs on a Ministry chair in Mr. Weasley's small office. Her foot was bouncing steadily in the air though her upper body was perfectly still save for the gnawing of her bottom lip. Arthur had stepped into the court room to hear Draco's sentence and was to report back to tell Hermione the Wizengamot's decision. 

The meeting with Blakely and Natalie had gone very well, in that it seemed to trouble Blakely. In fact, it surprised him so much that after fifteen minutes of watching things in her Pensieve, he had to ask her to leave so that he could go and talk to "someone" or the Wizengamot Hermione guessed.

"Mr. Blakely," Hermione said before she left the office, "I hope you'll understand that it would be devastating, not to mention psychologically risky, to tell Draco what you saw. He doesn't remember anything and bombarding him with such information—"

"Yes, I understand. You don't want us to disclose any of this information to Mr. Malfoy," Blakely said as he stood and shooed Hermione further out of his office.

"Yes, he can't know about any of this, and he certainly cannot know that I—" Hermione broke off, realizing that Draco already knew she was here at the Ministry. "Never mind," she finished. "Just, I know that it's a lot to ask…but please, whatever you and the Wizengamot do, don't tell him about any of this."

Natalie gave her an assuring smile. "We'll make sure your sentiments are passed along to the Wizengamot."

Hermione gave one last nod before she turned to leave. She heard their footsteps echoing in the opposite direction as she made her way to the lift. She punched the button, and waited for a few minutes, and when it finally arrived, it was packed with witches and wizards.

Two tall bearded men got off, and Hermione boarded with the rest of the people. The doors began to close, when suddenly they all heard a call to hold the lift. The nearest witch stuck her hand out to stop the doors, and Hermione's eyebrows rose when she saw Blakely and Natalie thank the woman and squeeze on.

Hermione held her breath; they hadn't seen her, for she'd somehow been pushed towards the back. They were talking quietly to each other, and Hermione strained her ears to hear, but two witches on the other side of the lift were chatting loudly about some article in The Daily Prophet.

The next floor, two wizards in front of Hermione got off, but three more witches entered. She still couldn't make out what Blakely and Natalie were saying to each other, but she had already decided that whatever floor they got off at, she'd be following behind.

Two floors later, Blakely and Natalie exited the lift, so Hermione pushed through the people just in time before the doors closed. She saw them take a left, and she quietly followed behind at a distance. There were many people in the hallways, so she wasn't worried that they would hear her following.

"Ah, Rufus, we've been looking for you," she heard Blakely say. He and Natalie had stopped at the doorway of Rufus Scrimgeour.

Hermione could hear voices coming from the office, but couldn't make out what they were saying.

"Yes, we've just finished," Blakely answered the voice. "We—" he paused, "we got more than we bargained for."

_"What?" _Hermione thought as she strained to hear the other voices.

"Miss Granger didn't just give a confession; she gave some damn good alibis in Malfoy's defense."

There wasn't a reply, and before Hermione knew it, Blakely and Natalie were gone from the doorway as they entered Scrimgeour's office. She jumped a bit when the door slammed shut.

She immediately crossed the hall, and got as close to the door as possible, straining to hear something…anything about Draco.

"I believe, Miss Granger, that these walls are sound proof," she heard from behind her.

"Professor Dumbledore!" she gasped as she spun around to greet him.

"Hello," he nodded.

"Professor, what are you doing here?" she asked anxiously.

He only smiled down at her, then looked over his glasses. "Why do you sound so surprised to see me?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "I just—I'm so glad that you're here…" she trailed off, for she wasn't certain if Dumbledore was here for Draco, or if he was just passing through.

"I have come to give my own statement concerning young Mr. Malfoy," he said after he saw her face fall.

Her face perked up again considerably. "I just gave an affidavit to Mr. Blakely. I told him about Draco's memory loss and I told them about us during the year in school, and how much he helped me and that he didn't want to follow in his father's footsteps—"

"That is why I am here," Dumbledore interrupted. "Two testimonies on Draco's behalf are better than one, don't you think?"

Hermione grinned from ear to ear, while nodding animatedly. "Professor, could I ask a favor?" He raised his eyebrows to signal that he was listening. "Could you please ask them to not tell Draco about his memory? He can't find out like this," she pleaded.

"Of course, I'll make sure of it. Now if you'll excuse me, I have things to do," he said as he strolled to the closed door. He was about to knock when he turned and looked at Hermione; "Best be on your way now," he said as he gave a couple of soft knocks.

Hermione nodded and started back towards the lift. She looked over her shoulder as Dumbledore disappeared behind the door.

Her foot was still bouncing in the air as she sat in Mr. Weasley's office, waiting to hear about Draco. She stood and began to pace…what was she doing? She couldn't just sit in here; she had to go down to that courtroom and hear for herself.

Within minutes, Hermione was standing outside the large courtroom, and she slowly opened the door to peek her head inside. She was startled to find the room completely empty.

"Am I in the wrong room?" she mumbled aloud to herself. She could have sworn that Mr. Weasley had said his hearing was in courtroom ten. _"Could it be over already?"  
_

With that thought, she hurried back up to Mr. Weasley's office. He was standing by the door as she approached. "Hermione, I told you to stay here—"

"I had to use the loo," she lied swiftly. "So? What did they say?" she pressed with wide eyes. She couldn't bare to wait a second longer to hear the news, and childishly crossed her fingers behind her back for luck.

Arthur ushered her into his office and closed the door as he turned to look at her. Then, he smiled. "He was cleared on all charges."

Hermione sighed out in relief, and her shoulders physically dropped. "Oh Merlin, thank you!" she cried. Her eyes began to swell up with tears, and she could feel her chest restricting.

"Here, sit down," Arthur said as he fetched a chair.

"What happened? How long did it take? What did Scrimgeour say?"

"They were late starting," he began, "but only about ten people from the Wizengamot turned up. Usually for trials concerning Death Eaters the whole council attends, but for some reason they didn't come. That was a good sign from the beginning, for it meant that they wouldn't be questioning Malfoy…which could only mean that they wouldn't be sentencing him to Azkaban. Dumbledore was there as well, and I'm sure he gave some sort of testimony as you did because they didn't talk to him at all during the hearing."

Hermione nodded, deciding not to tell him that she had, in fact, already spoken to Dumbledore. She suddenly felt very tired…relieved, but tired. She couldn't wait to get back to the Burrow and tell everyone the good news.

As she walked out of Mr. Weasley's office, she wondered where Draco had gone to after his hearing. Would he have to stick around at the Ministry? Would he head back to the manor? She couldn't help herself from peering into every office, just to make sure that he wasn't nearby.

Hermione couldn't believe it was over…Voldemort had been defeated, the deserving Death Eaters had been killed or captured, Lucius was comatose and Draco was free. All seemed right in the world now…so why did Hermione still have a heavy weight sitting on her heart?

Perhaps it was hope, a yearning for Draco and for him to remember their love and return to her. Only then would things _really _ be right in the world.

She Apparated to the Burrow, and as soon as she arrived, she was immediately bombarded by Ron, Ginny, and the twins. Within minutes, she had a cup of tea shoved into her hand as she was pushed to sit and tell her tale.

Hermione looked back and forth as she told them about her meeting with Blakely, and then how she followed them only to be met by Dumbledore. She continued to tell them about going down to the courtroom, and that Draco was in fact free, but the longer she sat on the lumpy couch and spoke, the longer she couldn't stand the fact that Harry's face wasn't among those that watched her as she narrated her account.

"Hermione…that is wonderful news!" Ginny exclaimed as soon as Hermione was finished.

The twins and Ron were already joking around as Fred pretended to be a Dementor who was being shot down by Malfoy and Dumbledore, played by George and Ron respectively.

Ginny and Hermione laughed as they watched the reenactment, and joked about their similar reaction when they found out all those years ago that Harry had also been cleared by the Wizengamot.

The subject of Harry made Hermione's face fall, and Ginny put a hand on her knee and nodded knowingly.

"Shall we go and visit him later?" Ginny asked.

"Yes, we should all go," Hermione said as she stood from the couch. "We've had our rest; it's time to get back to his side where we belong."


	14. The Meetings

** The Meetings  
**

Hermione sat silently at the kitchen table at the Burrow in the wee hours of the morning.

It seemed as if she had returned from visiting an unconscious Harry only moments ago, when really it had been well over three hours. Everyone had headed off to bed, but Hermione had no ounce of energy to remove herself from the chair, or detach her hands from the burgundy mug of now cold tea.

She had so many things on her mind that her eyes were beginning to dry out from not blinking. The only sound that she could focus on was her own slow breathing.

Four hours later found Hermione at the same table, but her head had fallen down and to the side. She was awoken by a prodding Fred who lifted the hair that had fallen in her face.

"Morning, time for another day," he said in a loud obnoxious tone.

Hermione sat up, yawning loudly. "Good morning," she said in a groggily voice.

"Didn't make it up to your room last night, eh?"

She shook her head while rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

As Fred made his way around the kitchen, Hermione pushed from the table and ran up the stairs. She passed the loo, deciding to shower later.

Hermione pushed opened the door to her room, not sure if Ginny was up yet, but was surprised to find the red head sitting up in her bed, staring out the window with her chin cupped in one palm.

"Sickle for your thoughts?" Hermione whispered as she perched herself beside the younger witch.

"My dad is a glass-half-full sort of chap, right?"

"Beg pardon?" Hermione replied.

"My dad, he's always been a pretty optimistic fellow. At least, I think he is…or was. And I'll tell you why: It's because my mum was the opposite. She would always overreact about every little thing," Ginny left off with a small chuckle. "Mum was such a worrier that he had to be optimistic just so that all of us could cope with mum and her worry tantrums."

Hermione smiled, remembering all the times when Molly had gone berserk about the smallest things, and that Arthur had always been close by to lighten up the situation, or make things not look so damn bleak.

"Do you suppose he'll change now?" Ginny asked as she finally looked Hermione in the eye.

"I dunno," Hermione said with a shrug. She glanced out the window and saw that Ginny was in fact staring down at her father who was sitting solemnly outside with his head hung down. "I hope not."

"You know, I doubt he will…perhaps he'll take after mum's worrisome side, but keep his old side too."

"Are you going to have some sort of service for her?"

Hermione could see the tears in Ginny's eyes, but the redhead would not let one fall. "I dunno," she replied.

It hit Hermione suddenly, that the Weasley's, Harry, and herself were all motherless because of Voldemort. It was a heavy realization, and she quietly told Ginny what had just crossed her mind.

Ginny nodded, but didn't reply.

An hour later found everyone at the breakfast table, along with Mr. Weasley who had finally stopped pacing in the garden.

Arthur cleared his throat rather suddenly and said, "I received a parcel early this morning about a ceremony for…everyone who passed."

The clatter of utensils stopped immediately, as all eyes focused on him. "A meeting to coordinate it is going to be held at St. Mungo's around noontime today."

"Dad—"

"There's no need for you all to join me, it's just a meeting for…well, not for you all. But if you'll be there visiting Harry, I thought it would be nice to get out of the house and maybe go to Diagon Alley."

"That sounds good," Hermione said for the crowd of now-silent Weasley's.

When they arrived at the hospital, Arthur made for the fifth floor, while everyone else went to Harry's room.

The Healers had no good news to give about Harry's condition, as he still hadn't woken up, and only repeated the phrase i 'he's stable for now.' /i

They all sat around him, and talked quietly to him about anything they could think of. Ginny talked about the first day she met him at the train station, and remembered how badly she wanted to go off to Hogwarts with him and Ron. Hermione talked about some of their most memorable lessons, and the DA. Ron and the twins relived a few Quidditch games, the world cup, and the day Harry received his Firebolt.

They hoped that their voices would somehow awaken him, but an hour passed and still no change.

"Harry…he'll wake from this, right?" Ginny asked, breaking the silence.

Ron averted his eyes, and the twins both looked to Hermione who sighed as the very same thought kept on passing through her head.

Suddenly a knock at the door stirred them, and they all stood when a woman came in to shoo them all away while she administered a new round of potions for Harry.

Ginny, Ron, and the twins sat down in the hallway outside Harry's room as Hermione went up to the next floor to get herself a cup of tea. She had been up there so often that she was on autopilot as she reached for a cup, a coaster, a packet of tea, a spoon, and three sugar packets, and then whipped out her wand to boil some water.

She wandered around the fifth floor, looked through the hospital gift shop, and eventually walked past the room where the meeting was taking place. She thought about standing outside of the room to listen to what they were saying, but found that she didn't think she could stomach the talk of funerals.

Half an hour later, Arthur went down to Harry's room to collect everyone. He seemed to be in a better mood, probably because that meeting was somewhat of a group therapy discussion as everyone in there had lost a loved one.

Arthur didn't seem like he wanted to tell them about the meeting, and quickly said, "Right, I'm famished. Let's go get some lunch, shall we?"

* * *

"This really was the perfect ending to an atrocious month," Draco said loud and obnoxiously to his mother as the two of them watched a number of ministry officials exit their house.

For the past four hours, the Manor had been turned upside down. Hundreds of books and artifacts had been confiscated to undergo inspection as they were dubbed 'Dark Magic' items. True, the books had pertained information about Dark Magic, and some of the artifacts were indeed bad, but Lucius was gone. The Wizengamot had cleared Draco, so why ransack their home now? What would he or his mother do with these items? Begin their own regime against wizards who were pals with Muggles and Mudbloods?

_'Yes, of course. That is exactly what we were planning, how ever did the Ministry guess?' _Draco thought sarcastically.

"What do you say we get out of this house?" Narcissa said as soon as the last official left.

"Sure, not like this place is welcoming anymore." Draco had been feeling awkward in the Manor ever since he returned there. Reminders of his father were in every inch of the house, it was impossible to escape him, or to forget that everything he'd ever been taught in this house was useless.

He and his mother Apparated into Diagon Alley, and his mother suggested that they go and buy themselves something expensive.

As he and his mother walked down the street, he couldn't ignore the feeling that people were staring at them. He also could ignore the fact that the last time he had walked down this road, he had been hexing people. He had been in a crowd of Death Eaters…and then he remembered what had happened with Granger.

For some reason he felt the need to return to the shop where he had almost choked the girl who he had known for years. "Mother, why don't we go into Madam Malkin's Robe Shop?"

As they approached the store, Draco began to have flashbacks of that night…most of all he distinctly remembered hovering above her, with his hands around her neck. As much as he hated to admit that he was wrong, Draco knew that he regretted doing that to her. Even if she was Muggle-born, and an occasional pain in the ass, that didn't mean he wanted to kill her, and he had been so out of his mind that night that given another minute he probably would have taken her life.

He knew at that moment that even if Voldemort hadn't been defeated, he would not have made a good Death Eater. He didn't want to kill for a living.

"Hello," they were greeted as they entered the shop. His mother headed for the more expensive robes, as Draco looked around the store at where it had happened. It was clean now, but he remembered throwing robes everywhere, and knocking the rose vase onto the floor.

Just as his thoughts headed off to those damned rose petals that always seemed to give him a migraine, his mother called out to him. She had already found four sets of robes, two for her and two for Draco. "Let's try these on," she said.

After they went into separate rooms to try the robes on, they came out to show each other.

"That looks nice on you," his mother said as she went over to fix his sleeve.

It was a bit odd, trying robes on with his mother. It was something he had only ever done with his father.

"Draco, I need to tell you something."

"What?"

"We're leaving England for a while."

"Excuse me?"

"England, we're leaving. I can't stay at the Manor, and quite frankly, I can't stay in this country."

"And where pray tell are we going?" Draco was a bit angry that he had no choice in this, what if he didn't want to move?

"Scotland," she replied. "I have an old friend that owns a hotel there, and has agreed to let us stay in a double suite for as long as we like."

Draco didn't reply, only went back into his dressing room.

"You're upset, aren't you," she said, following him and speaking through the door.

"It would have been nice to have been asked."

"Draco," she sighed, "I…I just can't bear to be in that house anymore. It reminds me too much of Lucius," she finished. "I thought it would be good for us to get away."

The more she talked about it, the more it appealed to him. He knew that he too needed to get away from the Manor, and away from England and all of the watchful eyes.

He opened his dressing room door with his second outfit on, "How do I look?"

Narcissa's eyebrows rose, "Does this mean you're okay with leaving?"

"Yes, as long as you buy me these robes," he said giving his mother a smile. "So…when do we leave?"

She smiled, pleased that he wasn't upset with her and willing to come with her.

She took his sets of robes, along with both of hers and went to the front to pay. As they stepped back out onto the street of Diagon Alley, his mother wanted to go to Monsieur Malvice's to get more robes. Draco didn't really care to accompany her, and instead decided to go into the Quidditch shop. They decided to meet there in an hour.

As he made his way through Diagon Alley, he tried to ignore all of the eyes on him. That was when he saw them…almost every Weasley, along with one other who certainly stuck out from the red-clan…Hermione Granger.

And of course they were all heading into the Quidditch shop. That was just wonderful.

But as he grew closer to the shop, he realized that he didn't mind seeing them. It was sort of nice to see some people he recognized. Even if they didn't get along at all, it was still familiar, and familiarity was something that Draco was definitely lacking in his life at the moment.

The smell of the Quidditch store stirred nostalgia in Draco, and he suddenly yearned to be back at Hogwarts. Back in the castle that was more of a home than the Manor would ever be.

He glanced around for the Weasley's, but soon found that he wasn't trying to spot a red head, but a brown head. When he caught a glimpse of her and the girl Weasley, he felt a surge of nervousness overcome his senses. His fingers tingled, his stomach jumped, and Merlin-forbid, his hands started to sweat.

He was a bit horrified at how he was reacting to seeing her. The last time he had seen her was in the Ministry where he was sure she had helped in some way to clear his name. That meant he owed her some sort of a 'Thank You,' right?

"Granger," he said, clearing his throat immediately as it had come out somewhat shakily.

When she turned to look at him, her eyes bulged. "Malfoy?" she all but squeaked. He was obviously the last person she had expected to see. "What are you doing here?"

"Nothing, just getting out of the house," he said. Wow, he was surprised he told her the truth.

She nodded, "So, how is your father?"

Did she really care? _'He's a living corpse, actually,' _he wanted to say, but decided on, "The Healers say he probably won't ever recover."

"Oh, I'm sorry—"

"You don't have to do that, I know you could care less about him."

Hermione shrugged, "I didn't say I'm sorry about Lucius the Death Eater, I meant I'm sorry because he's your father," she said, and then they became silent.

Ginny had taken small steps away from them the whole conversation and was now nowhere in sight.

Draco ran a hand through his hair, "Look, the reason I came over here is because, I saw you at the Ministry the day of my trial, and I just wanted…to thank you."

Hermione's mouth dropped opened, "Thank me? Why would you do that? You don't know what I was doing, I could have, you know, been there for other reasons."

She was nervous, he could tell. She was also probably lying. This gave him some confidence, "Don't bother denying that you helped me Granger, I saw you with my own eyes." She sputtered at the comment but he spoke over her, "You were with Blakely, the man who was keeping me locked up, what else am I supposed to think?"

Her mouth just hung there….

"It doesn't matter," he said to her, though in his own mind, he desperately wanted to know exactly what she could have told them that would set him free. "What matters is that you helped me not get sent to Azkaban. So thank you and…have a nice day."

He turned to leave, kicking himself for actually having said 'have a nice day' when she replied.

"Draco, you're welcome. I uh, I guess I'll see you around then?"

He gave a brief smirk, "Sure, I'll see you—wait. No, I won't actually. I'm leaving."

Her face dropped, "What?"

"My mother and I, we are going to Scotland for a while."

Her mouth formed a small "o" but she looked like she had just been told that her cat had died. He found that it both shocked and pleased him.

Things were beginning to get uncomfortable for him, so he placed a hand on her shoulder and bid her goodbye.

Hermione watched with sad eyes as Draco retreated. She leaned against a wall, and her nerves were still tingling from where his hand had touched her.

"What happened? What did he say?"

Hermione could only smile, "He's back," she whispered, her eyes glistening. "I knew it would happen. The Draco I know and love…he's back."


End file.
